The Desperate Housewife
by JeezLouise
Summary: A 'what if Susan got off the train' fic, with a twist. NOT a crossover.
1. Chapter 1

'Lime green! With her complexion! That woman is just too much!'

'I know! Last week I saw her taking out the trash in broad daylight wearing _sweat pants_!'

The group of women, all in their mid-thirties, cackled as if this was the most unbelievably hilarious thing they had ever heard. As Susan looked around her, she couldn't help but think that their perfectly made-up faces were straight out of Stepford, for which she mentally scolded herself: _You promised him that you'd make the effort today._

'Oh, Susan, by the way, I think Tobias is a little fluey. Do you think Mark could take a look at him later?' the perma-smile never vanished from Jane Perkins' lips as she addressed this new neighbour, the doctor's wife. On the few occasions she had met the doctor - he worked far away in the city - he had seemed politely charming, and she was mistified as to what attracted him to the bolshy blonde he was married to. Sure, she was attractive, but she had none of the qualities a man should be looking for in a good wife.

'He won't get home til gone nine. I could take a look at him - I am a doctor too, y'know' Susan tried, with limited success, to conceal her annoyance. _What is it with these women? _

'That's ok. I'll take him to Dr Hurlock first thing. He gets a little anxious around strangers anyway. Does Mark know Dr Hurlock? HIs reputation is impeccable - I'm sure he'd be only too happy to help him get tenure'.

'Mark's not interested in tenure. He's happy doing what he's doing just now'. _You can do this. Just keep smiling._

'Oh - I thought you said he was working in the ER of a county hospital?'.

'Yep - that's what he loves - what we both love'.

'So you're serious about going back to work?'. The four women stared at Susan as if she had just stepped off a spaceship that had landed in one of their immaculate flowerbeds.

'The sooner the better'. Susan smiled genuinely for the first time that afternoon.

'Honey, take my advice'. Amanda Ryan leaned closer to Susan, and the other women unthinkingly followed suit. 'You've bagged yourself a wealthy guy – well, a guy with the potential to become wealthy. You've married him, had his kid, now let him look after you. It's the twenty-first century - you don't need to drag your nose back to the grindstone in the name of all this feminism crap. You need to do what's right for you, what's right for Mark and what's right for Jake. Become a homemaker'.

Susan laughed out loud. She soon stopped, however, when she realised that none of the other women were laughing with her. Amanda was being serious.

'Homemaker? Me? Yeah right! Wait til I tell Mark - I can't wait to see the look on his face!'.

Susan's neighbours looked at her with their fixed expressions, cold but nevertheless polite. Her refusal to play ball made them uncomfortable and, to avoid the risk of 'a scene', they quickly changed the topic of conversation. What followed was a lengthy discussion of jam recipes, the woman at number 42's new car and other such inane topics that Susan knew nothing, and did not wish to know anything, about. After what seemed an eternity, it was time to leave Tina Merrick's impeccable home - which looked to Susan like a show home, cold and un-lived in - and return to her own chaos of still-unpacked boxes, baby stuff and medical journals. She had been trying to keep up with new research whilst on maternity leave, but she had found little time to read in between nappy changes and bottles. She loved her son fiercely, and Mark, when she saw him, was still the amazing man she had fallen in love with, but without medicine there was something missing in her life. And she hated it.

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'Clear!' Mark hadn't lost a single patient today and he was not going to let the guy on the table ruin it for him.

'Hey Mark, what'd'ya got?' Kerry Weaver burst into Trauma One sounding almost gleeful at the prospect of getting stuck into a bloody trauma. Mark was pleased to see her though, although he thought she was a little early – was she checking up on him? It didn't matter – at least he would get home on time.

'Kerry - I thought you were joining us at seven - Clear!'

'I know, I know…but I'm hardly the only person round here who's ever been a little late'. Kerry's tone reflected her sense of mild annoyance; this was the first time she had been late in years, but everyone else seem to swan in and out of this place as they pleased and now she was the one being reprimanded in the middle of a trauma.

Mark looked confused. 'What do you mean, late?' as he said it he glanced over his shoulder at the clock. It was 7.35. 'Oh God!' he said, returning to the trauma. 'Clear!'

'I've got this one – go'. Mark looked unsure but wasted no time in accepting Kerry's offer, snapping off his blood splattered gloves as he ran.

And he really _ran._ He had been on nights for the past few weeks, barely seeing Susan and Jake, and he had been looking forwards to getting home at the end of the day rather than the beginning for the entire fortnight. If he missed this train, well – he didn't want to even think about it. He loved the job, but when it came down to it his family were the most important thing in his life. He had missed out on most of Rachael's childhood, and he wasn't about to make the same mistakes with Jake.

As he ran across the station, he spotted the train on the platform and began sprinting once more. Nothing else mattered as long as he got on that train. As he approached he could see that one by one the doors were being locked. 'Hey!' he called breathlessly.

'Oh – hey Andy, hold on a minute – it's Dr Greene!' both of the men were pleased to see Mark.

'Thanks guys!' he said as he used the last of his energy to dart onto the train.

'No problem, Dr Greene – hey Vince' he shouted to a man locking the doors further down the platform 'this is that guy I was telling you about, Mark Greene' the man smiled with pride as he introduced them. Mark, polite as always, gave an embarrassed smile and said 'hi'. 'He's the guy who got married here last year. He's a doctor over at County. It's a beautiful story – '

'Sorry to interrupt, guys, but we gotta get goin'. Andy, the conductor on the train, nudged Mark out of the way as he locked the train door.

'Oh well – same time tomorrow, Dr Greene?' the man was beaming at him expectantly.

'Sure, Mike. And you _can_ call me Mark, y'know'. Mark found the nearest seat and collapsed in it. Even though he was exhausted, as the train pulled out of the station he couldn't help thinking how content he was; in fact, he had never been so happy in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

As Mark walked up the street that he now called home it struck him how well presented all the houses were. There was, however, one notable exception – his own. No wonder Susan wasn't really getting on with the neighbours, he thought. But both time and money were tight and neither of them had the energy or inclination to do anything about it. But maybe that was about to change. He was up for ER chief next year – albeit against Kerry Weaver, who was a shoe-in – but the extra cash would come in very useful for some home improvements. Both of them had agreed that an apartment in Chicago was no place to bring up their son, and so they had moved into the outlying suburbs. They thought they had struck lucky with this house; it needed a lot of work but it was in a very good neighbourhood and, in time, they had planned to do it up. The exterior of the house was fine, but since they had moved in they had allowed the garden to become overgrown. Thinking about it, Mark realized that neither of them had a single piece of gardening equipment between them from their Chicago days – they would have to buy it all new. Then there would be the endless hours of mowing, weeding, planting, watering…he started to see why it wasn't high on their list of priorities. If only somebody could do it for them…of course! He would hire a gardener. To hell with the money – it would buy them precious time to do fun stuff with their son. But he wouldn't tell Susan. It would be a surprise. She'd love it!

Meanwhile, Susan was getting anxious: she had put Jake down almost two hours ago now and there was still no sign of Mark. If he was going to stay late at the hospital – cover for someone, stay with a patient until they were out of the woods, help out with a mass trauma – surely he could've found thirty seconds to call her and let her know. He could even have had a nurse do it, or one of the clerks – that's what they're there for, after all. Mentally, Susan stopped herself - what was she thinking? She of all people knew what life was like in the ER – he probably hadn't even realized the time. How many times had she missed appointments, meetings, dates – all because she had got caught up in the ER vortex. And when you've had that sort of day, the last thing you want is to have to apologize to someone for having done your job properly - for saving lives, for giving a damn. She had promised herself that she would never get annoyed with Mark over his work commitments. The fact that they both shared the experience of being an ER doc was one of the fundamentals of their relationship: how could she be annoyed at him for refusing to compromise patient care on her behalf? And yet, she was annoyed. She had spent the day hanging around the house, changing diapers, cleaning up sick. The highlight of her day so far had been having what could very loosely be termed an 'adult' conversation with the vacuous souls who were now her neighbours. She thought things couldn't get much worse, but facing another night alone was the icing on the cake.

She grabbed the baby monitor, got herself a beer from the fridge and headed for the back porch. They had no garden furniture, so she made do with sitting on the step. She looked out at their yard. It was crazy. The grass hadn't been cut for at least a couple of summers, and now it looked alive with hundreds of insects hovering over it in the evening light. The heat of the summer had dried out the grass to a light brown colour, which actually looked, now she thought about it, quite spectacular: the sun was setting and the grass took on a kind of burnt orange hue. She had always loved the sunset, but it took on an added significance now – it reminded her of her visits to Suzie in Arizona. On her last visit, Suzie had just discovered that it was the Earth turning, rather than the sun going down, that caused the sunset. Every time Susan went to visit, she came back to Chicago with one more memory, one more shared experience that her mind might bring up at any moment, bringing with it a little bit of Suzie into her day. She loved those moments. Jake may well have been her first born, but deep down, she still considered Suzie to be her first child. She missed her more than ever now that she didn't have work to distract her: sure, Jake kept her busy, and she loved him, but nothing compared to working in the ER for pure escapism. At work, she simply hadn't had the time to think of anything else but the patients in her care. Now, with all this time on her hands, with Mark barely around, she found herself wondering if she had made the right decision.

Should she have gotten off that train? Where would she be now? Sometimes, she indulged herself, letting her mind wonder over the possibility that somewhere, in an alternative universe, was a Susan Lewis living in Arizona, working great hours at a quiet hospital and seeing Suzie as often as she liked. This Susan Lewis watched the sun go down every night, helped Suzie with her homework. She didn't deal with the horrors of an inner-city trauma center. She had gotten over the crush she had had on Mark Green, realized that it was the very fact that he so painfully obviously loved her, that he had been there and consoled her when she missed Suzie, that made her want him in the first place. Maybe, in another world, she had even started seeing someone new. And then maybe, one day, Chloe just disappeared again and this time the judge said that Suzie was hers, officially, forever…

'Hey' Mark stood in the doorway, his back pack still on his shoulder, trying and failing to stop himself from grinning.

'Can I join you?' he asked as he walked over to the step and crouched behind Susan, placing his arm around her neck and softly, slowly kissing her cheek. She looked into his eyes and smiled.

'Sure' she said.


	3. Chapter 3

'Hey Mark, wanna grab some lunch later?' Mark didn't look up as Doug Ross arrived at the admit desk and began rummaging around in the mounds of paperwork.

'Sure' he said, then added, 'Is everything OK?'. These days, Doug usually had lunch with Carol when they were on the same shift.

Doug smirked, but Mark sensed that it was slightly defensive. 'Of course' he replied. 'I just thought we could, y'know, catch up'.

'Catch me when it gets quiet' said Mark, pulling the chart he'd been looking for from under a huge stack of papers.

'We need help over here!' Chuny was getting a man onto a gurney by the front doors.

'I'll get it' Mark shouted, then to Doug added 'If not quiet, at least quiet-_er_' as he headed over to help.

It was three in the afternoon before they got the chance to have a break. The heat made for a lot of fainting and dizziness, dehydration, barbeque food-poisonings and sports accidents, as well as people who just didn't have their own air-con and came to appreciate the hospital's. It was another beautiful day in a seemingly endless summer, so Doug and Mark headed out for hotdogs and a walk by the river.

'So how's Jake doing? Did that nappy rash clear up?' Doug sounded bored by his own question.

'You skipped lunch with Carol to talk about nappy rash?' Mark sensed that Doug wanted to talk about something, but as usual he was skirting around the issue.

'No, I'm just asking you how your family are' Doug continued to be defensive, which began to irritate Mark, who stopped walking and glared at him.

'OK, so I wanted to talk to you about, well…' Doug looked extremely uncomfortable.

'Go on…' Mark was losing patience.

'The thing is, Carol and I have been trying for a baby….'

'Congratulations! You're gonna be a dad?' Mark interrupted, not quite grasping what Doug was trying to say.

'Not yet, but hopefully, soon. The thing is we've been trying for a while, and, well, it's just not happening'

'Ah' Mark's expression dropped as he realized what Doug was trying to say.

'So I was wondering, since I've never intentionally got anyone pregnant before, in fact I've gone out of my way to make sure it didn't happen, and you've done it twice, with two different women, if, y'know, you had any advice. I mean, we've been reading all the books and everything but I was just wondering if there was anything, y'know I could be doing…' Doug tailed off, clearly embarrassed by what he'd just said.

'How long have you guys been trying?' asked Mark in a clinical tone, reverting back to his professional role.

'About six months. I know it's not that long, really, but Carole's getting a bit edgy and I thought you could, I don't know, let me in on the secret of your success…' they both began to laugh, relieving the tension of the conversation.

'Relax! It's far too early to start worrying. And don't get too tense about it. Stress isn't good for either of you'.

'OK, so I just need to be cool. I can do that!' Doug affected a John Travolta-style strut as they headed back to the hospital. They both laughed.

'Anything else?' Doug asked.

'Yeah…those jeans have to go.'

'You mean I have to start dressing like a square? Well which is it Mark, are you telling me to be cool or dorky?'

'Those jeans are too tight. You need to, ahem, stay cool _everywhere_.'

'Well I never thought I'd see the day I'd be taking fashion advice from you!'

As they re-entered the department and made their way to the lounge, the two men doing their best Travolta impressions attracted several bemused looks.

'Looks like the heat's got to them too' said Lydia as they disappeared into the lounge.

'Well I'm glad somebody got the chance to go get some lunch' Carol said bitterly as she picked up a chart and walked purposefully over to curtain two.


	4. Chapter 4

'Hey Randy, what've you got for me?' as Mark strolled up to the admit desk he spotted Kerry arriving early (as usual) and making her way into the lounge. Could life be any better? He was going to get out of here on time, go home to his beautiful wife and his beautiful son on a beautiful evening.

'Nothing too interesting at the minute. Come back in five – there might be a bloody trauma through the doors any minute'. Randy didn't look up from her magazine as she spoke. It had been another long day, filled with minor complaints and not a single trauma. It was times like these when you almost wished for a disaster of some sort, just to help the time pass.

Mark, on the other hand, couldn't be more pleased that it had been quiet.

'I've only got twenty minutes left on my shift, so if you've got some boring case I can treat and street in that time I'll be more than happy to take it'.

Randy finally looked up at him, a look of bemusement mixed with mild disgust on her face. 'OK, who are you and what have you done with the Dr Greene who lived for cherry picking the most interesting cases?' she said as she selected a chart from the rack.

Mark was slightly taken aback by this comment. He still loved medicine. He just loved his family more. 'I still love interesting cases…as long as they don't interfere with catching my train'.

Randy was unconvinced. 'Leg lac. Curtain one. You have 18 minutes' she said, unceremoniously dumping the chart in his hand.

'Thanks Randy!' he said excessively cheerfully as he strolled over to Curtain One.

'Hello Mr………Brennan. I hear you have a nasty cut.' Mark looked up from the chart to see a very sweaty-looking, muscular man, wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts and some sneakers.

'It's nothing, really' said the patient, 'In my line of work, I'm always getting cuts and scrapes. Occupational hazzard'. Even though he had been waiting to be seen for over two hours, his tone remained relaxed and cheerful.

As he spoke, Mark looked at the cut on his leg. 'I'm afraid you're going to need a few sutures Mr. Brennan. It shouldn't take a minute. What line of work are you in?' Mark asked politely, as he had been trained to do. Show an interest. Make them feel at ease. Of course, all he was really interested in was getting out of there in….he checked his watch….16 minutes.

'I'm a landscape gardener. Own my own business. Please, call me Joe'. Mark wondered what he had done in a previous life to deserve such a perfect day. Everything was falling into place for him at the moment.

'Really?' he asked as he cleaned the wound. 'I was looking into hiring a gardener myself. We've got a new baby, just moved out to the burbs…'

'You don't need an excuse, y'know' Joe interrupted 'Everyone has hectic lifestyles these days. You're a doctor. You don't have time to waste mowing the lawn. It's nothing to feel guilty about.' Joe was opening his wallet and handing a business card to Mark. Noticing that he had his hands full suturing, he left it on the tray. Even though Mark knew that this was all sales patter, he felt that Joe genuinely understood his situation.

'I know it's short notice, but could you possibly call round tomorrow? I'd like to surprise my wife. She's taking the baby to an appointment with the pediatrician and they'll be gone all morning. It'd be great if…'

'Dr Greene, when she comes back, she won't recognize the place. Just give me your address and leave it to me.' Mark finished the sutures and wrote the address down for Joe. He couldn't believe how easy all this was.

Seven minutes later, Joe was discharged and Mark was grabbing his stuff from the lounge.

'Hey, Kerry!' he said far too exuberantly to someone who was about to start the night shift.

'Hey, Mark' she replied wearily, sounding drained before she'd even seen a single patient.

'Who was that last patient you just saw? He looked really familiar' she said half-heartedly.

'Joe Brennan. Landscape gardener. Seems like a really nice guy.'

'Joe Brennan? No, doesn't ring a bell. Anything I should know before I head out there?'

'Not really. Carter's around, he can fill you in on the board. You'll probably get to catch up on a lotta sleep tonight though – it's been quiet all day.'

'I hope you're right Mark. There's only me and Carter on tonight. A couple of traumas and we'll be slammed'.

'I'll keep my fingers crossed for you. Night!' Mark added as he headed towards the door.

'Night Mark. Give my love to Susan' Kerry said as Mark disappeared round the corner. Whatever happened, it was going to be a long night. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that there were just the two doctors on shift. As she headed to the board, she wished Mark was staying to help them out. They had never really seen eye to eye, but in the old days he would never have walked out without a second thought about the ER like that. He'd have stayed a couple of hours, probably offered to stay for the whole shift and work through. Since that day, when Susan had gotten off the train, he had changed completely. Before, he'd spend every possible waking minute at work, often coming in on his day off just for something to do. But now it seemed like he hardly wanted to be here at all. Sure, he was still a great doctor, and the patients and other staff loved him, but it seemed to Kerry that he had lost his passion, his desire to be a doctor. She had always admired that quality in him, but now he had become just another clock watcher, waiting to get off shift and dump his patients on the next sucker like all the rest. Just like Susan. Putting family before career, baby's bedtime before overtime. Kerry sighed. Yes, it was definitely going to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

'Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home? I could take an early lunch break, I'm sure I could be there and back in an hour' as they drove into the city, the sun was rising and the temperature was already hotting up. Mark was driving into work accompanied by his wife and child, who had a routine appointment in pediatrics that morning. Little did Susan know that Joe Brennan had already started work on their garden, and Mark was looking for an excuse to be there when she returned home to see the look on her face.

'Mark, please stop fussing. We'll be fine! I thought I might pop into the ER and say hi, then maybe me and Jake'll take a stroll by the lake…make a day of it. Kinda like Jake's first day in the city. What'd'ya say, little man?' she turned and smiled at Jake, who was fast asleep in his car seat. Even though she was trying to turn it into Jake's big day, Susan was infinitely more excited about getting back to 'civilization' than her tiny son could ever be.

'Well maybe I could meet you two for lunch then?' Mark was very uncomfortable with the idea of the two of them wandering around the city all day; as he knew all too well from his work, it was a very dangerous place for anyone, let alone a woman with a baby.

'Mark, would you please just relax? There is no way I'm feeding our baby in the Roach Coach, especially on such a beautiful day, and I am perfectly capable of looking after him.' Susan was getting slightly irritated by Mark's attempts to shield them both from any far-fetched perceived sources of 'danger'.

Conscious of Susan's increasingly irritable tone, Mark decided it was probably safest to just change the subject. 'Well, Doug and Carol are both on today, I know they're both desperate to see the two of you'. He smiled, and she smiled in return. Although it was unspoken, Mark had obviously conceded that she was right.

As they wrestled with all the baby stuff in the parking lot, an exhausted-looking Kerry Weaver approached them.

'Hey Kerry, how's things?' Mark asked in his now-usual cheery tone.

'Well, we just about made it through the night. I have to warn you, though, the board is still full and there are still three patients from the last shift waiting on admits. One's been there for 18 hours.' Kerry was apologetic, but it was clear she was only being polite; her tone was indignant.

'I guess you must be bushed, huh? Hey, meet my son – this is Jake' Mark brushed aside Kerry's work worries as Susan appeared from the back of the car with the baby, and stood next to Mark. Kerry offered a weary smile, but inside the resentment was welling up: Mark was full of energy, high on life, and grinning like an idiot; their baby was truly cute (Kerry had seen a lot of ugly babies in her time, but Jake really was gorgeous), and as for Susan – well, she was absolutely radiant. Kerry stared at her in disbelief. She was used to seeing Susan half-heartedly moping around the ER, pale and tired, and always with a sneer and a smart-ass comment ready for her. But the woman who stood before her was beautiful. She looked so fresh: lightly tanned from walking Jake around the neighborhood, any trace of bags under her eyes vanished, all the pregnancy weight disappeared.

'Susan….hi' Kerry managed, slightly embarrassed by her own staring.

'Hi Kerry. Could you just hold Jake a second whilst I grab all his stuff?'

'Sure' she replied, in a daze.

'I better get going. I'm already ten minutes late' Mark said, before kissing his wife and son and heading for the ER entrance. 'Call me after the appointment!' he added as he left.

'I know it's only because he loves us, but he fusses way too much' Susan said as she finally got all the stuff together. Stopping and looking at Kerry for the first time, she realized something was wrong. Putting a comforting hand on Kerry's shoulder, Susan added, 'Hey – are you ok?'.

'I'm just tired. I've been doing a lot of shifts lately. It just seems like I get up, come to work, go home, watch TV on my own, go to bed, and repeat. Every day the same.' Kerry surprised herself with her frankness, especially considering who she was talking to; they had never exactly been close.

'Wanna get a coffee?' Susan asked, sympathetically. 'I was going to parade Jake around the ER for a few hours until our appointment, but it can wait' Susan recognized a cry for help when she saw one, and she could empathize with Kerry's situation.

'I don't want to bother you…' Kerry started, but Susan was insistent.

'It's no trouble, honestly. I don't want to wake Jake up just yet anyway' she smiled at Kerry, who weakly reciprocated.

'Ok. But it's my shout' Kerry couldn't believe that she was going to have coffee with Susan Lewis: over-emotional, ambition-deficient Susan Lewis, who would throw her career away at the drop of a hat on a total whim. But the thing that surprised her most was how much she wanted to go. In fact, she felt a tingle of excitement as they headed across to Doc Magoo's, something she hadn't felt in a long time, almost as if, as if….Kerry struggled to recall this feeling as her mind started racing….it was almost as if she were going on a date! Good God, she really did need to get out more, if she was this excited about having morning coffee with another woman. But as they selected a booth and Susan arranged her myriad of baby things, Kerry noticed that she really couldn't shake the feeling….being around Susan was, well, making her feel amazing. What the hell was going on?


	6. Chapter 6

'Help – I need a doctor over here!'

Mark and Doug reacted instantly. They were more than used to bedraggled-looking parents bursting through the doors desperately clinging to their lifeless children. But in recent times, these cases seemed even more pressing to the two men who dashed to their aid.

Doug grabbed the boy and carried him to trauma one, all the while asking the dazed father a ream of life-or-death questions, trying to get as much relevant information as possible to give the boy the best possible chance of survival.

The father reeled off the litany of answers: he just fell in; I couldn't find him; not sure, maybe three or four minutes; seven years old; I never meant for this to happen; no, no existing conditions; just help him, please; please God, let him live.

This was harrowing for everyone involved. Lydia took the man – Mr Collins – to the waiting room whilst they worked. Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Still nothing.

'How long?' snapped Mark, vigorously pounding on the boy's chest.

'Twenty five minutes' said Haleh resignedly.

Mark carried on, the look on his face even more determined than before.

'Mark' said Doug, softly. 'Call it'.

'Shock him again'.

'Mark. It won't make any difference now.' Doug placed his own hand over Mark's, and he slowed to a stop, tears welling in his eyes.

'Time of death, twelve forty seven'. Mark snapped off his gloves and slammed through the doors, away from the harrowing scene in the trauma room. Everyone else slowly followed, whilst Doug stayed behind, standing silently with the dead child. He carefully swept a piece of golden hair from the boy's forehead, and left to tell Mr Collins the worst news he could ever hear.

Later, Doug was filling out some paperwork at the admit desk.

'Still pretending to do work, I see' Doug looked up to see Susan, carrying Jake.

'Well someone has to get away with doing nothing whilst you're not around' Doug said, grinning cheekily and taking Jake from Susan.

'Hey big guy, you've got your Mom's eyes and your Dad's hair – but hopefully unlike him you'll grow some soon' Jake giggled as Doug shook his tiny hand.

'You wait til I tell Mark you said that!' Susan teased 'Is he around? He wanted us to meet him for lunch'.

'Actually, I haven't seen him since….er, a trauma we had earlier' Doug said cagily, arousing Susan's suspicion.

'Ooh, a trauma – was it a nice bloody one? He didn't get into another pissing contest with surgery did he? I can't stand him when he's sulking'.

'Er, no.' Doug's face worried Susan. 'It was a tough one – seven year old in a fishing accident – Dad brought him in – we lost him'.

'Oh. I'm sorry' Susan knew that Doug and Mark would be affected by losing any patient, but this one must've really gotten to them.

'Any idea where he might be?' even as she said this, she knew Mark well enough to know exactly where he would be.

So did Doug. They said it together: 'The roof'.

'I better go talk to him…' she began.

'Susan – I wouldn't. He'll come down when he's ready. He just needs to clear his head, that's all. You know what he's like.'

'Yeah, you're right.' Susan conceded.

'Well, it looks like we've been stood up!' she said to Jake, who was still very much entertained by Doug's face, which he was repeatedly trying to grab.

'How bout I shout you two lunch. I am your godfather, and your best-friend-in-law' he said, nodding at the two of them in turn.

'I'm worried about Mark…'

'Lydia, if you see Mark, will you tell him we're in the canteen'.

'Sure, but only if I get a turn at holding this little one'

'Not for me, thanks' Susan shielded her cup with her hand as Doug offered her more decaf.

'So, how's Carol?' she asked. 'Not on today?'

Doug was feeding Jake with pureed something-or-other – it all looked the same to him – as Susan looked on in increasing amusement. Doug had failed to realize that once Jake had decided he wasn't eating any more, there was only one outcome in the ensuing battle of wills: Jake would not eat any more. He had somehow inherited both his parents' stubbornness, which meant that he did what he wanted, when he wanted: those teenage years were going to be tough.

Still attempting to tempt Jake with the 'choo-choo train', his eyes fixed determinedly on him, Doug chose to answer the latter of Susan's two questions: 'She's on tonight. They cut her right down to three shifts a week'.

'That must have hit her hard?' Susan intended this as a question, but Doug just nodded in agreement with what he had taken as a statement. Susan sensed that something wasn't quite right, but she also knew that she wouldn't get much more out of Doug. When he had some juicy gossip to spread, he was the world's greatest blabbermouth, but when it came to his own problems Doug had a tendency to clam up. She decided to ring Carol when she was back on days and check that everything was OK. After all, they had been the only two witnesses to her and Mark's wedding: the two couples were far more than mere work colleagues.

'He's not going to eat any more' Susan decided to put Doug out of his misery.

'Sure he will!' said Doug 'He's hardly eaten any of it'. With this, Doug lifted the spoon high above his own head and made it do a loop-the-loop, before getting it to dive at speed towards Jake's mouth. And to both their surprise, Jake ate it.

'I guess he's going to be a pilot, not a train driver' said Doug, obviously pleased with his triumph.

'Doctor, baby-feeder, fortune teller….is their no end to your talents?' Susan teased.

'Don't forget I could've been a pro basketball player' added Doug.

'And modesty too! All in one package' as the pair laughed, Mark approached them. As he wearily sat down, a hush seemed to descend over the table. Doug instantly began clearing up after Jake's meal, whilst Susan tried to console her husband, who seemed a different person to the energetic, cheerful man she left this morning.

'Hey, I heard you had a rough morning' she said, gently stroking his arm with her hand.

'How did the appointment go?' said Mark, flatly ignoring his wife's attempts to comfort him.

'Fine. Everything's great' she replied, glad to be giving Mark some good news after this morning's events. 'Do you want some coffee? It's only decaf, but-'

'I have to get back to work' Mark interrupted, as he got up to leave.

'Mark, you only just got here' said Susan, slightly irritated. This whole lunch was his idea, after all.

'Well I'm sorry the entire department can't come to a standstill to have lunch with you' Mark said coldly, looking at Doug accusingly.

'Hey buddy, you were nowhere to be found and Jake was hungry. You stay, I'll go and if there's a trauma I'll page you' Doug recognized that his best friend's bizarre behavior was down to losing that kid this morning. It'd been intense for everyone involved.

'I've gotta get to a meeting, but you should probably get down there' Doug's surprise at Mark's orders was etched on his face, but he didn't challenge him. Mark gently kissed his son on the head, and added to Susan 'He looks tired. This morning has taken it out of him. You should take him home.'

'Well thank you for those handy parenting tips' replied Susan sarcastically 'But I'd still like to take him for our stroll by the lake'.

'Fine. I'll see you at home' snapped Mark, kissing Jake's head once more without even looking at Susan, before heading off to his meeting.

'He'll be OK. He just needs some time. The whole father-losing-son thing's just thrown him a bit, is all' both Doug and Susan stood up to leave.

'Thanks Doug' said Susan, as they engaged in a goodbye hug.

'No problem' he said with a smile and a wink which never failed to cheer her up. 'And you' he said to Jake, 'Take care of your mummy and your grumpy old daddy for me'. He added another kiss to the little boy's head before leaving to face another long afternoon in the ER.


	7. Chapter 7

'It's alright for you' thought Susan as she pulled into their street and glanced at her sleeping son in the rear-view mirror. After a couple of hours by the lake, he'd slept the whole way home; Susan wished she was doing the same. This was only the second time she'd driven to their new home, and she took a mental inventory of who lived in which identikit home as she headed down the street. It struck her how bland and regimented all the houses looked. Theirs was a little messy, but at least it had some character. And besides, she loved the way the wild dry grasses of the back yard seemed to instantly take her back to Phoenix – to little Suzie. Susan smiled thinking about her little sunset indulgence; she had taken to sitting on the back porch of an evening and replaying some favorite memories in her head.

But something wasn't quite right as she drove down the street. Susan was sure they didn't live this far down, but it was a long road so she persisted. When she reached the other end, she was slightly embarrassed at having driven passed her own home, but put it down to a combination of tiredness and daydreaming, turned around and went back. When she finally spotted the familiar blue postbox (everyone else's were white) and pulled into the driveway, she was astounded. Her front lawn now had vertical stripes. The weeds she had left in the flowerbeds only this morning had disappeared, replaced by beautiful flowering plants. Susan was bewildered. Obviously, one of the neighbors' gardeners had visited the wrong house.

As she struggled into the house, laden down with Jake, still fast asleep in the car seat, her purse and the giant baby-stuff bag, it suddenly dawned on her that her backyard wilderness may have been tamed, too. She quickly put down Jake and the bags and ran to the back of the house. Sure enough, the whole thing had been ripped out and replaced with the same vertical striped lawn turf that had been laid at the front of the house. Her tiny patch of Arizona had been taken from her, replaced by the depressing identikit lawn favored, it seemed, by the whole of middle-America.

'Damn' she whispered softly to herself, mindful of waking Jake. But inside, she was seething. No more nice housewife, she resolved. When she found out which of her idiot neighbors' gardens had done this, she was going to let them have it. And what's more, she was going to go back to work. Not when they had looked at the resume of every child minder in the whole of Chicago. Not when Jake starter kindergarten. Not when Mark had secured the chief's position. As soon as possible. She had done it with Suzie, as a single Mum in a tiny apartment. Now she had a husband and a nice house. It wouldn't mean she loved Jake any less, she told herself. It'd mean she would have the best of both worlds.

'Mrs Greene?'

'Aaargh!' Susan spun around to see who was in her house.

'Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house!' she yelled, running to the kitchen counter and grabbing a knife.

'Woah! Calm down, Mrs Greene! I'm Joe. Your husband hired me to do the garden. Sorry if I gave you a fright. I noticed the back door was open so I thought I'd check the house. I didn't hear you come home'.

'Oh' she replied, lowering the knife but not letting go completely.

'He wanted it to be a surprise. So I guess you're pretty surprised, huh!' Joe smiled and rubbed his right hand on his jeans before offering it to her 'Joe Brennan, landscape gardener'.

Susan took a moment to look him up and down before deciding to drop the knife and accept his hand; she was a city girl at heart, after all. She saw a tall, well-built man, muscular but not too well-chiselled – the body was obviously down to genuine hard work rather than hours spent preening and posing at an expensive gym, which was a refreshing change. Similarly, he had a natural sun-kissed glow to his topless frame, confirmed by the chaos of freckles on his face and shoulders. The jeans he wore were filthy, well-worn and slightly torn in places. As she shook his hands, she noticed a huge amount of dirt trapped under the fingernails, at which he caught her staring.

'Er, sorry – hazard of the job, I'm afraid' he said, embarrassed, as he snatched his hand back from hers.

'Don't apologize! You should see the crap I come home covered in!' she laughed, recalling how a bit of dirt was the least of her worries at County,

'Oh – what line of work are you in, Mrs Greene?' he asked.

'Lewis. It's Susan Lewis. I never took Mark's surname when we married. But please, call me Susan. We're both doctors, in the ER' Susan found herself charmed by Joe's easy, polite manner. She was only used to talking to people at the hospital, who were only interested in themselves, and her neighbors, who were merely digging for dirt. Joe was the first person who seemed genuinely interested in talking to her, without off-loading their own problems or having a hidden agenda, in as long as she could remember.

'Ha ha, I bet you see some things working there!'

'Oh yeah' Susan found herself saying 'Would you like a drink? You must be exhausted'.

'Oh, no thank you, Mrs, er, Susan, I'd better be going. Your husband only hired me for this morning, it was only when I saw the state of the place that I realized I'd need to take the whole day'.

'It's amazing, what you've done' said Susan 'You did all this alone?'

'No, there's a team of us, but I let the others go at five. They've all got wives and girlfriends to get home to. I've just been finishing up'.

'Well thank you, Joe, you've truly worked a miracle here'.

Joe smiled. 'I'll be back tomorrow to paint the fence, then twice a week to maintain it. So I guess I'll see you around'.

'Sure, I mean, yes, I'll be here. Bye.' Susan had suddenly become flustered as he let himself out the back door.

It was only a half-hour later, as she was putting Jake down for the night, that it occurred to Susan that she hadn't unlocked the back door when she arrived home. But then, she was tired, maybe she had forgotten about it. Maybe it hadn't even been locked in the first place – they had left in a hurry that morning. Anyway, Joe seemed like a nice guy: she was sure he was trustworthy.

The phone rang loudly in the silent house, but Susan, having fallen asleep on the sofa, was dead to the world. After the fifth ring, there was an audible click as the answer machine kicked into life, and Susan's familiar message began: 'Hi, you've reached Mark, Susan and Jake. We can't come to the phone right now….'

At the other end, Mark waited impatiently for the tone. A multiple MVA meant that any sleep he would be getting tonight would have to be at the hospital. He had taken a couple of minutes to call Susan and grab a coffee from the lounge, but he was still being hounded by colleagues and patients alike as he tried to leave a message:

'Hi, it's me. Look, I'm not gonna make it home tonight. Sorry about lunch, I just…well, I'll talk to you about it tomorrow. Kiss Jake for me, and MARK! Carol needs you in trauma one NOW! I gotta go. Oh, I hope you liked the surprise, I Are you a doctor? Can you take a look at my head? I've been waitin for four freakin' hours here! I love you, Susan.' Click.

Susan, however, would not get this message until the next morning. She would not stir, in fact, until the sound of Jake's crying – the only thing capable of waking her from a deep sleep – woke her at precisely 6.23am. She wouldn't unpack all the baby stuff she'd dragged round Chicago all day. She wouldn't have that hot bath she'd been planning on the drive home. And she definitely wouldn't see the figure at the window, eyes adjusted to the moonlight, watching her in the darkness through the drapes that she never got around to drawing.


	8. Chapter 8

'Mark?'

'A-ha?'

'Pinch me.'

'Huh?'

'Pinch me. I'm hallucinating.'

At this point Mark looked up, and saw what Carol saw: it was Doug, with a bag of bagels in one hand and a tray of coffee in the other, and grinning inanely as he approached them at the admit desk.

'Who are you, and what have you done with the selfish, gloating Doug who usually strolls in and asks _us _where the coffee is as we're just finishing the graveyard shift from hell?' inquired Mark as he dropped the chart he'd been holding and grabbed a coffee and a bagel.

'Can't I treat my beautiful girlfriend and my best friend to breakfast now and again without being met with cynicism?' Doug asked with a tone of forced innocence.

'Sure. If it was now and again, but this is a world first!' teased Carol as she too took a bite. 'What's got into you this morning?'

'Nothing! It's just a beautiful day, and I'm glad to be alive' Doug kissed Carol on the cheek, before adding, 'Mark, can I have a word?'

'Sure' shrugged Mark, dead on his feet.

'Secret men's business' said Doug in response to Carol's look of suspicion, before tapping his nose with his index finger. Carol was too tired to quiz him further, and went off to check on a patient as the two men headed to the lounge.

Mark slumped in a chair, immediately taking off his glasses and rubbing his stinging eyes.

'What's up, Doug?'

'I gotta ask you something buddy' said Doug, earnestly.

'How much do you need?' Mark asked, half-smiling as his friend's predictability.

'This isn't about money' said Doug, slightly taken aback back Mark's assumption.

'Mark, that day, the day that Susan was going to leave…'

'Can we reminisce some other time? I'm kinda tired, Doug…'

'Let me finish. That day, we all knew, everybody knew that you loved her, that you were _in _love with her. Everyone could see you were perfect for each other. The entire time you've known her, even when you were still married to Jen, I knew you loved her. It was obvious. You were best friends. Soul mates. A perfect match. But you didn't do anything about it. All those years, even when your marriage broke down, even when she told you she was leaving for Phoenix, you couldn't tell her. Tell me, why was that Mark?'

Mark stared at Doug in disbelief.

'What is this, Doug? What'd'you want me to say? That I was a chicken? That I was terrified of losing our friendship? Do you want me to thank you yet again for making me go to Union Station? That without you she'd be in Arizona and I'd be a miserable wreck? Cos I really don't feel like a session of boosting your ego right now.'

'No,no, Mark – you've got me all wrong. What I'm trying to ask you is, when did you know you had to spend the rest of your life with Susan? That you'd go crazy without her? That the thought of not being with her drove you to risk everything?'

'I…I guess I always knew, really. Even when I was with Jen – and I did love Jen – I knew I could never be without Susan. But I always thought she was just my best friend. And I genuinely believed that. There were so many times when you or Jen would ask – always half jokingly – if I would ever have an affair with her, and I honestly believed that I didn't see her that way. I know it was hard for everyone to believe that a man and a woman could be that close without it getting sexual, but we were both that naïve, I think. Then, well, I guess it's that old saying: you don't know what you've got til it's gone. I'd been thinking of asking her out on a date for a long time – as you'll remember. My marriage was over, and I'm not blind: I always knew she was incredibly attractive, physically. To be honest, when Chloe dumped Suzie on her I was glad she stopped dating. Even when I was with Jen, I was always hated the thought of her with other guys….'

'Mark. My shift starts…' Doug looked at the wall clock '….three minutes ago. Can we hurry this along a bit?'.

'Well I'm sorry if the history of my attraction to Susan is boring you, but you did ask….ok, ok, I'll get to the point. I always knew I loved her, but when she told me she was going to Phoenix, it was the worst moment of my life. That's when I knew I had to be with her, to love her, for the rest of my life. But that feeling of desperation was crippling. Agonising. I couldn't ever go through that pain again, so…'

'So that's when you let me talk you into going after her. And you stopped her from getting on the train, told her how you felt, she said she loved you too, and….'

'The next day I asked her to marry me, on the roof of this very hospital.'

'I see' said Doug, clearly deep in thought.

'Doug, if you want to marry Carol, ask her. You two got back together after realizing that you were just like me and Susan, wasting time because neither of you had the guts to admit you were still in love'.

'But…'

'DOUG! Get out here! It's eight minutes into your shift and you haven't even made it out of the lounge!' the familiar, piercing voice of Kerry Weaver brought an end to one of the frankest conversations Doug and Mark had had in all their years as friends.

Doug rolled his eyes and headed towards the door.

'Doug' called Mark. He turned around slowly. 'Only you know what to do'. Doug sighed and left without saying a word more.

Mark, on the other hand, had been at the hospital for more hours than he cared to remember and decided that enough was enough. He grabbed his stuff out of his locker and headed for the admit desk so he could give a very swift run down of his patients to whichever poor soul happened to be standing there: they would be their problem now.

'Hey Mark' said Kerry, more cheerfully than he had heard from her in a long time.

'Hey Kerry, how's things?' he asked, secretly hoping the answer would be brief.

'Great thanks. I can't believe how much Jake's grown! He looks more like Susan all the time. I really enjoyed our coffee yesterday morning. I'd like to do it again sometime.'

'Er, ok…I'll tell Susan. I'm sure she enjoyed it too' Mark said, puzzled. Susan, socializing with Weaver? They'd been sworn enemies since the day they met, only tolerating each other in the name of professionalism, as far as Mark could tell.

Kerry smiled and nodded, before heading off in the direction of the elevator. As he headed for the el, it occurred to Mark that everyone seemed to want to talk to him about Susan recently. He knew she had always been popular at work, but it seemed like her brief visit yesterday had reminded people how much they missed her. He didn't want to rush her but, he thought to himself, maybe it was time she came back to work.


	9. Chapter 9

'Honey, I'm home!' Mark always used this corny line when he eventually made it home from work. He simply couldn't resist the irony of it – they were hardly a model family. He ditched his stuff in the hallway and headed into the lounge, where Susan appeared in the kitchen doorway.

'Mark. What did you do to our yard?' she said half-laughing, but still not coming to meet him. He started to walk towards her. She was wearing her favorite hanging-around-the-house outfit: a huge, oversized yellow sweater that she often slept in, and her hair was messily scrapped back from her face.

'I figured it could use a little tidying' he said, feigning seriousness and removing his t-shirt as he walked towards her. He could never resist her when she looked so natural, so beautiful.

'And how was work, darling?' she teased, taking a step back into the kitchen.

'Just swell, honey!' he said quickly before finally catching up with her. She laughed as he lifted her onto the kitchen counter.

'I've been thinking about this all night' he said, before kissing her: gently at first, but quickly becoming more passionate as he ran his hands all over her.

'Where's Jake?' he asked as he moved down her neck.

'Playpen' she said as she reached for his belt buckle. Any tiredness they both felt had disappeared, and their need for each other became more urgent. After successfully removing his pants, Susan looked up to see….two strangers staring at them through the kitchen window.

'Aaargh!' she screamed, shocked. Mark glanced up to see her horrified expression before quickly turning round, by which time the two men, part of Joe Brennan's gardening team, had turned their attentions back to the lawn.

Mark quickly pulled his pants up, whilst Susan got down from the counter.

'Did they see anything?' asked Mark. He was embarrassed, but he knew they'd laughing about this sooner rather than later.

'They saw enough!' said Susan, still slightly shocked.

'Let's take this upstairs' Mark said, stroking her hair just as Jake started crying and the doorbell rang. They both sighed: clearly, this wasn't meant to happen.

'I'll get Jake, you get the door' said Susan, knowing that her face would be far too deep a shade of scarlet to not create suspicion amongst any visitors.

Mark grabbed his t-shirt on the way, before impatiently answering. He intended to get rid of whoever it was as quickly as humanly possible.

'Yes?' he said as he swung the door open. 'Oh, hi' he instantly recognized Joe as the gardener he'd hired.

'Hi Dr Greene. Just wanted to let you know that most of the work's done, we're just gonna finish up this morning, then we'll be coming round twice a week to keep things ship-shape. That is, of course, if you're happy with the work…'

'Oh yeah, I'm really happy. It looks nice. Just send me an invoice and I'll be happy to settle up' Mark had barely noticed the garden; it was the last thing on his mind, but it seemed to have made Susan happy enough.

'Not working today?' asked Joe, making conversation.

'Just got off' said Mark, in no mood for small talk, 'In fact, I'm really tired, so…'

'Oh sure, yeah, don't let me keep you' said Joe. Behind Mark, he noticed Susan carry Jake down the hallway, and couldn't help but stare.

Mark thought that this was adding insult to injury: not only was he keeping him away from his wife, but he was checking her out right in front of him. He hastily cleared his throat to try and regain Joe's eye contact.

'Er, I'll get that invoice to you ASAP Dr Greene. You have a nice day now' Joe knew he'd been busted.

'Seeya' said Mark curtly, shutting the door. He made his way to the lounge, where he found his wife and son. He stood in the doorway and watched them for a moment, reminding himself just how precious they were to him. If anything were to happen to them…he stopped himself. Traumas like yesterday's, where he lost a kid, just didn't bear thinking about. Looking into that father's eyes was so harrowing, Mark couldn't stand to think about what would happen if he lost Jake or Rachel.

'Want me to make you some breakfast?' asked Susan, tearing him away from his morbid thoughts.

'I think I'll just hit they hay' he replied, adding a yawn to reinforce his point.

'Is the thought of my scrambled eggs so depressing?' said Susan, half-joking, half-offended.

'You know I love your, erm….interesting cooking' Mark struggled for a compliment and failed to find one 'But honestly, I'm beat. What say I get a few hours, then we all go to the park this afternoon, huh?'.

'Sure' she said, slightly disappointed. She liked doing housewife-y things for him, but they both knew she wasn't very good at it. Now she had no idea what to do with her morning.

'Ok, goodnight honey' he said, turning to leave.

'Mark!' Susan shouted after him. He stuck his head back round the door.

'Don't forget to close the blinds!' she said, and they both laughed.

Mark slept fitfully, any benefits of rest negated by his terrible dream. In it Susan was crying. He could hear her, and see her sat on their sofa, but he couldn't reach her, couldn't comfort her, couldn't find out what was wrong. He banged on the windows, but she didn't hear him or see him. All that went through his mind was that he had to find Jake. Unable to get in the house, he went around the back, where the garden was in a terrible state of disrepair, but not like it had been before. The land was completely bare. Nothing grew, not even the weeds that had been so prolific. He ran to the garage to check the car, but it was gone. He ran back to the front of the house, and, finding the door open this time, he ran inside, straight to where Susan had been. But she was gone now, too. So were all their possessions. He ran up the stairs. Every room was empty: bare floorboards, windows without drapes, furniture gone. He shouted for Susan. But she wasn't there. He knew she was gone, but still he kept shouting her name, frantically searching every room over and over again until…

'Mark, wake up!' Mark woke with a start to find Susan sitting on the bed next to him.

'That was some dream, huh?' she asked, offering him some water.

'Yeah' he said 'it was'.


	10. Chapter 10

Eighteen hours later, Mark was woken by his 4.45 am alarm call, which he immediately set to 'snooze'. He had slept much better that night, after a fun afternoon running around with Jake and an even funner evening with Susan, who now lay in his arms.

'Mark….you have to get up' she said, without opening her eyes.

'Mmmm' replied Mark, still not awake enough to comprehend.

'Mark!' she said again fifteen minutes later when the alarm went off again. He didn't even stir this time, but responded to her by pulling her in closer to him. She opened her eyes, her face mere inches from his, and studied him in the dawn light. He looked so peaceful, completely at rest like this. And so vulnerable: usually he was the tall, athletic lifesaver, cool under pressure. But his glasses, somewhat stereotypically, betrayed an intellect and almost geekiness that she also loved about him. Here, in the semi-darkness, she had a sudden urge to touch the fresh crop of stubble that peppered his jawline. She loved the irony that he was going bald, but still had to shave every day; still had hair, just in all the wrong places. Somehow, that seemed to typify Mark. He had everything he wanted, but it was all so disjointed and uneven: a job he loved, but which wore him out to near breaking point; two beautiful children, in different States, neither of whom he saw as much as he'd like; a wife he loved, and who loved him back, but deep down they both knew Susan still thought about what would've happened had she got on that train nearly two years ago. Before Mark's declaration, her only big decision was between two factors in her life: her job at County, and her niece, Suzie. Now she had neither.

Susan ran her fingertips along Mark's cheek, and he groggily opened his eyes.

'Hi' he said, detecting a slight distance in her eyes. He put it down to having just woken up, and leaned in to kiss her. When she didn't kiss back, he knew something was bothering her. He moved back to his original position and caught her gaze again for a few moments, as if he could find all the answers in those harrowingly beautiful eyes.

'Susan?' he said, sitting up in bed. She smiled, instantly putting him at ease.

'I think it's time I went back to work, Mark' she said hesitantly, unsure of his reaction. She knew he would never – could never – stop her from going back, but she really wanted his approval on this. She surprised herself how much his support meant to her; she had never even considered asking for anyone's opinion about anything she did before. She could only conclude that this was what marriage was all about.

'Susan, that's great!' he said. She loved the way his eyes lit up when he genuinely smiled, and in the early morning light they seemed to sparkle. Her announcement seemed to jolt him awake and he jumped out of bed, pacing the bedroom as he spoke:

'Why don't you come in with me today? You can bring Jake, we could enroll him in daycare, and you could talk to Morgenstern about starting back, and…'

'Mark? Slow down! I'll come in today, but I'm still not sure about daycare. I mean, it was OK for Suzie – well it had to be – but she was much more used to strangers than Jake, whether she liked them or not, and I just think that…'

Mark grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

'Mark!' she said, laughing, as he brought her into an embrace. Mark silenced her the only way he knew how – with a lingering kiss.

'I'm afraid there's not enough time for us both to take separate showers' he said, feigning seriousness.

'It's OK – I'll go without' she teased, moving out of the path between him and the bathroom. Mark began to head for the shower, but after just passing her he turned back and, in one sudden movement, hoisted her into a fireman's lift before carrying her into the bathroom. Susan couldn't protest – she was laughing too much.

An hour later Mark, Susan and Jake were on the freeway, heading for County. Susan felt like her stomach was doing summersaults: a heady mixture of relief at Mark's approval, excitement to be returning to work, and a distinct sense of nervousness – what if she couldn't hack it as an ER doc any more?

Mark, on the other hand, was steeped in nostalgia. As they drove along in silence, he recalled those first few months after he told her how he felt. It was as if all those times he'd fantasized about her suddenly came true – like he was living in an amazing dream. Yes, he had certainly enjoyed the sneaky trysts they had indulged in during, ahem, 'quiet times' at work, but it was the little things he missed about her not being around: suddenly bumping into her after not seeing her for a few hours, the staff's little comments about how happy they seemed, leaving notes in her locker when they were on different shifts. He had even stopped minding when patients hit on her – he was always there, ready to leap to her defense and loudly introduce himself, at first as her fiancé, then as her husband. He recalled how he had become considerably more protective during her pregnancy, however, which had led to some heated discussions between the couple, but that was behind them now, and Mark couldn't wait to get back to the good old days.

And as they entered the department, it was as if the staff had anticipated Susan's decision. A huge banner, reading 'Congratulations, Mark' was hanging above the admit desk. Jerry was the first to spot them.

'Hey, Dr Greene, great news! And great to see you Dr Lewis!'

'Jerry – what's going on?' asked Mark, baffled.

'You're the new Chief. Congratulations, Mark.' Kerry said coldly, arriving at the admit desk. 'I'm sure you'll do a great job'. Kerry hid her resentment poorly, but nobody begrudged her her right to be bitter. Susan's departure had left a hole in the department that had been inadequately filled by a string of temps, and ever since she went on maternity leave Mark had been distracted. But hey, they were Mark and Susan – the ER's golden couple - and everybody loved them. Losing out on the Chief's position to someone who's commitment was questionable, and for whom she had picked up a hell of a lot of slack over the past year, was a terrible blow to Kerry. And yet here she was, at the business end of yet another double shift, congratulating Mark with the limited enthusiasm she could muster, when all she wanted to do was point out how obscenely unfair the whole thing was.

Just as she thought she was going to vomit with all the undeserved platitudes heading Mark and Susan's way, in bowled the cavalry: the ER's other perfect couple, Doug and Carol, arrived together to complete the picture of loved-up beautiful people. After more pats on the back, the assembled crowd of ER workers began chanting, 'Speech! Speech! Speech!'. 'Oh, brother' thought Kerry, burying herself in paperwork as all the sheep around her hung on the every word of their new leader:

'Well, I'd just like to thank everyone for all your support. It hasn't been easy the past year – I'd be the first to admit my mind hasn't been entirely on the job. But I couldn't have done it without you: my colleagues, my friends, my family. And I'd like to reward you with some more good news. My first act as Chief will be to welcome back Dr Susan Lewis to the department' the entire crowd cheered at this news, as if Mark had just announced he was tripling their pay. Kerry looked up from the form she had been filling to see Mark put his arm round Susan and kiss her on the cheek. Susan looked radiant again, she noticed, as the whole department seemed to take their place in line to hug her. Kerry realized that she was staring when Susan caught her eye, and gave her a slightly embarrassed smile, which she reciprocated. 'At least we'll have another competent doctor on staff' Kerry thought to herself, although that sentiment somehow failed to account for the sudden rush of excitement she felt.

As the staff dispersed and Mark, Doug and Carol headed to the lounge, Kerry took the opportunity to go and speak to Susan.

'Hey, Susan, welcome back – we've missed you around here' coming from Kerry, Susan knew this was high praise indeed. As did Jerry, who Susan caught raising an eyebrow behind Kerry's back.

'Since we're both going to be attendings, we're going to have to work closely together. Have you had breakfast? I could go over some of the new policies with you if you'd like' Kerry dressed it up as work, but the truth was she really wanted to spend some time with Susan. She had always struggled to make friends, and since they'd gotten coffee together Kerry had realized that she desperately wanted to count Susan as a friend. But she couldn't ask Susan to meet her socially; if she said no, Kerry would feel humiliated. Rather, she would make excuses to meet her outside the hospital on the pretext of discussing departmental policy, until Susan would eventually count her as a friend. They were only colleagues now but, Kerry thought, Susan had started out as colleagues with Carol, Doug, and even Mark, the three people she was closest to.

'It's about time I had something more than work in my life' thought Kerry.


	11. Chapter 11

'Next please!' the clerk was getting more and more impatient with the next guy in line. Sure, he was incredibly good looking, but his head was clearly somewhere other than in the store: this was the third time she'd called for him to come to the counter, but he had remained at the head of the queue, clutching a bunch of flowers and a bottle of wine. Since it wasn't anywhere near mother's day, and he was clearly shopping last-minute, this could only spell one thing: woman trouble.

'Hey buddy, you're up' said the guy behind him in line, more impatient than helpful.

'What? Oh, ok, thanks' replied Doug Ross, finally making his way towards the counter. The assistant looked him up and down as she rang up his goods.

'Hot date?' she inquired, in that incredibly nosy way complete strangers sometimes do, mistaking their intrusion for friendliness.

'Something like that' replied Doug curtly.

'That'll be fourteen ninety-five. I hope she's worth it' quipped the clerk, smirking. Of course Doug knew she was right – these cheap last-minute purchases didn't quite reflect the importance of the occasion, but he didn't appreciate having his complete lack of organization spelled out to him by a sassy teenager.

'Thank you' he said, accepting his change hurriedly. If he wasn't already late, he might've taken the clerk to task, but he really needed to dash.

'You're welcome. Have a nice night. Next please!' she droned in that 'I'm being paid to be nice to you' ironic tone that young shop assistants seemed to think was witty and original.

Outside the store, Doug jumped into the car and handed his purchases to Carol, who he had picked up earlier.

'Wow, these are' – she struggled to find the word – 'er, these are dead, Doug. We're showing up 45 minutes late with some dead flowers and' – she paused to check the label – 'a bottle of wine with a screw top. Are you out of your mind?' Carol couldn't believe he was embarrassing her like this. They were meant to be having dinner at Mark and Susan's to celebrate Mark's promotion and Susan's return to work. Instead, they were just going to insult them with cheap gifts and tardiness. Doug sighed.

'Will you please just relax a little? Mark and Susan aren't snobs. And anyway – it's the thought that counts' keeping one eye on the road, Doug flashed her what he thought was a 'winning' smile. She turned her head and stared out of the window.

This whole evening was making her feel inadequate, before they'd even arrived at their friends' beautiful new house. She didn't resent them, exactly, but Mark and Susan just seemed to have everything going for them. Carol couldn't help but compare their lives with her own. They were both incredibly good doctors with excellent careers; yes, Carol had done well on the MCATs and proved to herself that she could be a doctor if she wanted to, but she just didn't have the drive, ambition or inclination for it. Susan had made a lifetime commitment to Mark – reliable, dependable, well-liked and respected, whereas Carol never knew where she was with Doug – a wildcard, who seemed to enjoy breaking the rules and pissing everybody off. Of course, that was part of the reason she loved him, but she'd also like a little bit more stability in her life, and was unsure whether Doug would ever be ready to provide that. Even their house was perfect, everything she had imagined she would be able to create when she bought her own DIY-project of a house next to the el tracks. Somehow, she had never quite gotten around to the several hundred odd jobs that needed doing to bring it up to scratch.

Yet Carol would give up a fancy house, a well-paid job and a wedding ceremony for one thing that Mark and Susan had, the one thing she wanted more than she had ever wanted anything before: a child. Being Jake's godmother had made her realize this for the first time in her life. Before that precious little boy, she had always considered pregnancy something she should desperately avoid. But seeing Mark and Susan with their son had suddenly flipped a switch somewhere inside her, and the maternal instinct had taken hold. Now, she would do anything for a child of her own, and the fact that she wasn't getting pregnant seemed to hurt more with every passing day.

'Looks like that gardener Mark hired did a really good job' said Doug as he pulled into the driveway, snapping Carol out of her melancholy train of thought. 'Hey, are you OK?' he said, finally acknowledging that her downbeat mood was something more than mere irritation about the cheap flowers.

'I'm fine' she replied, anything but. In her head, she added 'let's just get this over with'.

'Er, hi!' said Susan as she answered the door, wearing sweat pants and one of Mark's old t-shirts. 'Come in!' all three of them were slightly confused.

'Sooo….Mark told you to come round on Thursday, huh?' asked Susan, mildly embarrassed.

'Yeah, but he didn't mention the bit about it being a pyjama party' added Doug, smiling.

'Well, he failed to mention the bit about it being tonight to me, so I guess he owes us both an explanation' she replied.

'We can go, if you like' said Carol, secretly hoping for a let-off.

'No, no – you've come all the way out here. I'll order take-out; at least you'll be spared from my cooking!' she said as she gestured for them to sit down.

Susan joked, but she was actually a good cook. Nothing fancy – just good-quality home cooking, entirely self-taught. Although she had never been the domestic type, growing up with Cookie for a mother and Chloe for a sister had forced her into the role of 'the sensible one' pretty quickly, and up until she left for college she had done most of the family cooking.

'Oh – these are for you' said Doug, handing over the gifts. Carol looked away in embarrassment.

'Thanks. They're, er-'

'Dead' Doug kindly interjected 'they're the latest thing in the city. Don't tell me you've gone all suburban and traditional on us. Now, where's Mark? How could he miss this evening of sweat pants, take out and rotting flowers?' He was the only person Susan knew who could get away with being so flippant.

'He's at work. But don't worry, he'll be hearing all about it when I start back tomorrow. Can I get you a drink?'

'I'll have a beer, thanks' said Carol, politely.

'Anything but that wine I just gave you' Doug said with a grin.

'Well, for old times' sake, why don't we make it margheritas? I know we've got some tequila somewhere…' she disappeared into the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Doug was taking off his tie.

'What?' he said, noticing Carol's disapproving look.

'I thought this would at least be a grown-up evening' she said, taking a seat on the sofa.

'Can' t you just relax? No wonder you're not getting pregnant, you're so uptight' Doug regretted the words almost as he spoke them, and he winced at his own insensitivity.

'Carol, I…'

'Save it Doug' she snapped, tears welling in her eyes as she grabbed his car keys from the coffee table.

'Don't go' he pleaded, following her to the door.

'Tell Susan I'm sorry' she said, desperately trying to stop her voice from breaking with emotion as she slammed the front door behind her.

Doug took half a second to decide not to go after her. There was no point: she was too angry, too hurt to listen to him, and they had been here so many times before that he knew trying to speak to her now would be futile. As he peered through the drapes and watched her drive away, he felt his heart sink. How could he have been so stupid?

'Ta-da!' said Susan as she came back from the kitchen with a pitcher of margherita and three glasses.


	12. Chapter 12

Three hours later, and desperate not to stain the sofa in their inebriated state, Doug and Susan were sat on the floor of the lounge, empty glasses and half-empty take-out cartons sprawled around them and laughing hysterically at one of Doug's tall tales.

'I wonder where Mark's gotten to. It's past midnight' said Susan when she'd finally managed to regain some composure.

'Maybe he's leading a secret double life. Like Superman' suggested Doug. The image of Mark with his underpants on the outside flashed through both of their minds and they broke into another fit of giggles.

'Who would you be, if you could be a superhero?' asked Susan.

'Batman, of course. He's got the cool cars, the great house, amazing gadgets…'

'….and he's the biggest hit with the ladies. You'd look pretty hot in that suit!' she added. Doug smiled, slightly embarrassed.

'Dr Ross, I do believe you're blushing!' teased Susan.

'Well if Mark's Superman, that makes you Lois Lane' he said, sweeping the hair from her face just as she was about to do it herself, making their hands brush ever so slightly.

'What, the perpetual damsel in distress? In need of a big strong man to come to my rescue?' she said, moving away from him in order to clear up the mess. He immediately started to help her.

'No' he said, his tone changing slightly, 'the strong, intelligent, beautiful woman who can make a superhero go weak at the knees' he said, following her into the kitchen with the remaining take-out cartons. She said nothing.

'Now who's embarrassed, Dr Greene?' said Doug, slightly relieved to break the building tension between the two; but a part of him was also slightly disappointed.

'Lewis' she said, turning from the sink to look at him. 'I'm still Dr Lewis'. What she saw typified everything about Doug: he was dressed in smart clothes, yet he wore them casually – tie long since discarded, top buttons undone and shirt untucked. His gleaming eyes shifted about nervously under her scrutiny and a slight smile crossed his lips, bringing with it those well-worn creases that framed his eyes. Where in Mark's face she saw pure love and admiration – she had always been slightly uneasy by the way he almost grovellingly worshipped her – right here, right now, the only thing she found in Doug's expression was pure lust…

Staring back at her, Doug fought every instinct he had. He had always told himself that his attraction to Susan was based on the fact that he knew he could never have her; it was like fantasizing about a celebrity, she was totally unobtainable. Because she was Mark's. She had always belonged to him, whether any of them consciously thought about it or not. Even when he was married to Jen, Doug saw Mark's reactions when she went on dates with other guys. It killed him. Everybody knew it. It was only a matter of time. But of course Doug thought about her. As he stepped towards her now his mind flooded with all those times he had caught himself thinking how incredibly beautiful she was, how he ached to touch her, to hold her in his arms, to make her his….

Susan felt like she was watching herself in slow motion as she ignored every rational thought that passed through her head. Every passing moment was an opportunity to back out, to not do this, but the opportunities went untaken as she found her face just inches from Doug's. She studied the stubble on his face for what seemed like eternity, still not having crossed that line and terrified to look back into his eyes, running her fingers over his jawline studiously, as if reading Braille. She felt her heart pounding in her chest and it quickly ran through her clinical mind that her body was producing huge amounts of adrenaline. Finally, she found the courage to meet his eyes…

He could feel that she was trembling as she ran her hands across his face. He tried to regain eye contact but she took a few uncertain moments before returning his gaze. He was relieved to find that she wanted him as much as he wanted her – if that was possible. She started to lean in, but he pulled away. Confusion flashed in her eyes – the fleeting fear of rejection – but he had simply decided that he was going to be the instigator of their kiss. Having played out this moment in his mind many times before, Doug needed it to be perfect. He gently grasped her hands and removed them from his face, before placing her arms around his shoulders. As he pressed his body against hers, she immediately relaxed into a radiant smile. Never braking eye contact, without saying a word, Doug wrapped his arms around her, one strong hand spread out against the small of her back, the other softly grasping her ass and making her laugh out loud. They stood like this for a moment, pausing to take one last look into each others' eyes before committing this ultimate act of lust and betrayal, before crossing a point of no return….

Then he kissed her. Softly, slowly at first, then with increasing passion. He allowed his hands to run all over her body and, finding their clothes an unnecessary barrier, they parted only to remove them, hurriedly, desperately, reconnecting as quickly as possible as if they were two magnets that had been forced apart…

To Doug and Susan, the person they were making love to was the only other person in the world. So of course, neither of them noticed that moments after Doug had kicked the kitchen door shut the phone began to ring.

Neither of them saw the figure at the end of the garden, watching them, cold and motionless in the darkness.

And it was only afterwards, as Doug put on his clothes and Susan sat in the lounge, silently contemplating what she had done, that she noticed the light on the answer machine and pressed 'play':

'Hi Susan, I know it's late. Is Doug with you? I've been trying to contact him. It's Carol. She was driving home and….there's been an accident. It's pretty bad. If you know where Doug is, can you tell him to get here straight away. It's urgent. I probably won't be home tonight so I'll see you when you get here. Kiss Jake for me. I love you.'


	13. Chapter 13

Mark Greene removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He wasn't tired. He was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. Ever since he had taken over the role of ER chief, the ER had taken over his life. His body ached. His eyes stung. When he did manage to sneak home for a few hours, it was merely to sleep. Even though they lived in the same house, he desperately missed his wife and son. In the rare moments that he slept, his dreams revolved entirely around the ER; there was no escape.

As he stood in front of the admit board he wondered if this was all some sort of nightmare. But there it was, in black and white before him: Trauma 1, patient Hathaway, C., comatose and waiting on transport to take her up to ICU.

The sequence of events baffled Mark. Carol had been involved in an MVA, driving at speed, just three blocks from his own house. She had been brought in smartly dressed, no visible damage – except for that blow to the head. She had been driving Doug's car, rather than her own, implying they had been out together. And yet Doug was seemingly uncontactable. Mark hoped for all their sakes that she hadn't caught Doug with another woman. He'd never be able to live with himself, and Mark would be left to pick up the pieces.

'Mark?' Lydia whispered to him, seeing that he was obviously deeply affected by what had gone on.

'Susan just rang. She'll be in with Jake in a half-hour'.

Ah, Susan. God, he missed Susan. Knowing that she would be with him soon filled him with the warm glow of hope. And now that she was coming back to work, they'd see each other so much more – albeit over a bloody trauma – but he didn't care. Just having her near would be enough to get him through this.

'Mark, blood work's back on Carol' said Chuny handing him a pile of papers.

'Thanks' he replied, wearily glancing through it. He already knew what it would say.

But that's where he was wrong.

'Oh, brother' he said aloud as his brain tried to process the fact that Carol was pregnant.

'Where is she!' Mark instantly recognized Doug's voice and excused himself from his patient. Pulling back the curtain, he was just in time to see Doug barging his way through to Trauma 1. He was about to go after him, when he noticed that Susan was also stood at the admit desk, holding a sleeping Jake. Much as he adored her, he had to admit that she looked awful. Her eyes and cheeks were puffy and she had clearly been crying, her hair was down but hadn't been brushed and she was incredibly pale. She looked so hurt and vulnerable like this, and all Mark wanted to do was hold her, reassure her that everything was going to be OK.

So that was what he did. Without saying a word, he went over and took her by the hand as one of the nurses took Jake, and led her to the lounge. As soon as the door swung shut he turned to her and cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look him in the eye. Here he found pain and confusion, desperation and helplessness agonizingly etched across her face. As she burst into tears once more, he pulled her into a fiercely loving, protective hug, and kissed the top of her head.

'Sshh' he said, trying to soothe her, as Doug burst through the door.

'Tell me, Mark. I want to know everything. Don't try to protect me. I need to know' he demanded.

'It doesn't look too good, Doug. Paramedics were able to resuscitate her but they don't know how long she was down. There's some bruising, but no fractures. Just a massive blow to the head. She's on a ventilator. She hasn't woken up'.

Doug took a seat, trying to take in what Mark was saying, his anger passing into shock.

'There is….something else' Mark added tentatively, unsure whether it would be less cruel to not tell Doug.

Doug looked up at Mark comforting Susan in his arms, and felt a nauseating wave of contempt for them both.

'She's pregnant' Doug took a few moments to take this in, before calmly standing up, grabbing the chair he had been sitting on and hurling it at the wall, where upon contact it smashed into a dozen pieces. Susan flinched at Doug's outburst and turned her head away.

'Doug…' Mark began, but it was no use: he was already half way out the door, rushing back to Carol's bedside.

Mark and Susan were still stood like this three minutes later when Kerry Weaver arrived for work.

'Oh, hi!' she said as she spotted them 'Glad to be back, Susan?'

Susan failed to acknowledge Kerry, prompting her to turn back from her locker and take a good look at the couple.

'I guess you two need some time alone' she said, slightly embarrassed to have infringed on them, yet slightly disgruntled at the fact they were bringing their issues to work.

'Kerry, wait' Mark replied solemnly, before filling her in on what, to the best of his knowledge, was the whole situation…


	14. Chapter 14

The day passed in a blur. The entire ER staff were somber as they quietly got on with the business of healing patients. In a strange way, the fact that they were short staffed kept everyone busy, helping to keep their minds off Carol, and Doug's stubborn refusal to leave her side.

As Susan's shift ended, however, her stomach churned at the thought of having to go back in there and see Carol – and Doug. It would be the first time they had been alone together since they arrived at the hospital nearly fourteen hours ago. Susan's emotions were all over the place, but thankfully so far everybody had assumed it was a reaction to Carol's accident.

In reality, that was only one factor. She had found her return to work hard. It seemed that every time she went to get something, it had been moved whilst she was off. The charts were different too. She felt disorientated and out of practice, and this had shown in the trauma room; at one point, Kerry had asked her to step out, preferring to teach Carter a new procedure than to let her do it. The ER, previously her second home, where she had felt so comfortable, seemed so strange. She felt like a complete beginner, having to constantly ask people for help.

In the rare moments that she wasn't making herself look incompetent and trying to get her bearings, her mind played over the events of the previous night. How did it happen? Why? Surely, they hadn't had that much to drink. She though back over the last weeks, months, years – had she always been attracted to Doug? They had always been good friends. So had she and Mark, she reminded herself. But this was different. Recalling the look that Doug had given her earlier in the day, as Mark held her in his arms, she wondered if they would ever be friends again. Doug's entire face had changed, contorted by a mixture of sorrow and, well, rage. Yes, she had definitely seen anger in his eyes. If it all wasn't so tragic, Susan knew she would laugh at how in the space of twelve hours Doug had gone from wanting her to hating her.

And then there was Jake. If she had a dollar for every time she wished she could've just taken Jake to the park and kicked a pile of dead leaves, running and laughing, their only worry what to have for dinner, she would've been a very wealthy woman. The thought of spending sixty hours a week away from him like this filled her with dread. Now she knew exactly what Mark had sacrificed to make sure she could have as much maternity leave as she wanted.

Ah, Mark. Possibly the biggest loser in this whole sorry mess. She knew that he must have questions – why were Doug and Susan still together at four am? Why didn't they answer the phone? Why did it take them so long to get here? Why had Carol left in the first place? But the moment he greeted her, she knew that he didn't suspect a thing. He trusted her implicitly. Their entire relationship was based on his revelation at Union Station, after so many months of hidden emotions and lost opportunities to share the truth. Ever since that day, they had vowed that their relationship would be based on truth – no more lies, no more fear of rejection. They would be honest at all times, because they loved each other.

Susan realized that she had been standing at her locker for several minutes, mulling things over, without moving. Thankfully, nobody had entered the lounge. Suddenly snapping out her near-trance, she opened her locker to find an envelope addressed simply 'Susan'. Intrigued, she ripped it open and unfolded the piece of paper inside. She was furious with what she found, and stormed straight out of the lounge. Finding a queue at the elevator, she ran up the stairs, two at a time, heading for the ICU.

Finding Carol's side room, she burst in to find Doug asleep in a chair by her bedside, his head resting on Carol's arm.

'What the hell is this!' she demanded, throwing the paper onto the bed for him to pick up. Doug unfolded the sheet and read one word, scrawled across the page in angry red letters – WHORE. He was immediately confused.

'I know that you're angry at me, but this is way out of line, Doug. Leaving horrible notes in my locker? Don't you think I'm upset about all this too?' Susan stared at him as rubbed his eyes in an effort to fully wake up. 'Well – say something!' she demanded.

After a few moments, Doug quietly spoke.

'I don't know anything about this.' He said wearily. 'Which can only mean one of two things. Firstly, that you've been cheating on Mark with someone else' - a look of disgust crossed Susan's face at this comment - 'or, more likely, that someone knows about us'.

'You've told someone?' she asked, horrified.

'No. Have you?' he asked, equally worried.

'Well someone knows, Doug. They must've worked it out when we came in together this morning. Shit! I can't believe this is happening' Susan collapsed into a chair and sunk her head into her hands.

'Susan, calm down. All we have to do is find out who it is, and make sure that this doesn't get any further'.

'Calm down? Calm DOWN! That's easy for you to say, Doug. It isn't your marriage on the verge of crumbling, is it? I mean, if you cared so much about Carol in the first place, you would've gone after her when she left. But you had to stick around, pouring more drinks, getting me more and more drunk…'

'What! Stop lying to yourself, Susan. You wanted this as much as me. But you're the one who's supposed to be perfect, living in your perfect house with your perfect son and good old Saint Mark…'

'So that's what this whole thing was about. You couldn't stand to see Mark happy, so you thought you'd ruin it for him. Well, congratulations, Doug! You've successfully ruined all our lives. I hope you're happy!'

But Doug had stopped listening, he was looking beyond Susan, over her shoulder, and what he saw was Carol, scared and awake, looking right back at him


	15. Chapter 15

It was perfect. Mark was sitting on the beach. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so relaxed, so free. The beach was deserted, apart from Jake, a few years older than now, playing happily in the sand a few feet from the shore line. He closed his eyes and listened to the gentle roar of the ocean as the soft waves lapped the coast. When he opened them again, he found Susan sitting next to him, offering him an exotic-looking drink. He couldn't understand why she looked so worried, but somehow he knew that she and Jake were going to be just fine.

After what seemed like an eternity, he noticed that the sun was setting. He watched in silence as Susan went to collect Jake, scooping him up in her arms. Then she turned to face him, and he saw that tears were streaming down her face. He tried to get up, to reach her, to comfort her, but no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't move. And then suddenly she was getting on a row boat that had appeared out of nowhere. As she sat down with Jake, a man dressed in white began to row, taking them both away into the increasingly dark night. Mark was frantic, wanting to call out to tell them to come back, to tell them that he loved them. But he was completely paralysed, left alone in the darkness, terrified not for himself but for his wife and son.

'Wake up Dr Greene!' Chuny barged into the exam room and turned on the over head lights.

'Huh!' he said jumping up, an overlap from his dream as his struggle to move manifested itself in his waking movements.

'Scary dream?' she said, getting some supplies from a cupboard.

'Er…something like that' he replied, finding his glasses and stethoscope and putting them on.

'What time is it? Where's Susan? How's Carol?' he asked, bombarding her with questions.

'Five thirty. At home, not due in for another couple of hours. Awake, thank God!' she replied sassily.

'What! Why didn't anyone tell me?'

'Mark, you were in a meeting, then three traumas in a row, then two hours ago I forced you to get some sleep. There was no way you'd go if you knew she was awake!' Chuny felt very pleased with herself for having duped the permanently over-worked doctor into getting some rest. 'You wanna look good for Susan when she starts her shift, don't you?' she teased.

Mark just gave his usual fake-disapproval look and headed to the admit desk. He did feel refreshed after his sleep, but his dream had disturbed him. What did it all mean? Not that he really believed in all that stuff, but he had some vague recollections from his med school psyche rotation about dream analysis. Maybe he would check it out when he had some spare time – 'yeah, right!' he thought to himself, as Lydia appeared with a tray of fresh coffees from across the street.

Both Doug and Carol were asleep when a troupe of doctors of various ranks descended on Carol's room for rounds at 7am. Doug woke up first, and was immediately irritated by the intrusion.

'Hey, can you guys keep it down?' he snapped.

But it was too late.

'It's OK Doug, I'm awake' said Carol, sitting up in bed.

'Hey Carol. Glad to see you're back with us' said John Carter cheerfully.

'Thanks Carter' she replied, smiling contentedly. Carol felt so much better than she had before the accident. In fact, she thought, it was more than that – she felt reborn, like a completely different person. She had crashed that car angry, bitter and hurt. But now here she was a few days later, pregnant with the child of a man who she now knew really loved her – everyone had said how he had stayed by her bedside day and night since the accident – and about to leave hospital. She was so excited!

Only one thing bothered her. As she was coming round, she had heard Doug and Susan, one of her closest friends, arguing. Doug had dismissed it when she had asked him about it, saying that they were both tired and emotions were running high; it was about something trivial that no longer mattered. 'All that matters now is our future together', he had said, and Carol had been content enough with that. But still, it wasn't like either of them to be petty.

As the assembled doctors filed out, Mark Greene pushed his way through them to get in the room.

'Carol! You look great!' he said, gently hugging her.

'I wish I could say the same for you, Mark. You look awful! When did you last take a day off?' she scolded.

'Never mind that. How do you feel?' he replied, selfless as ever.

Doug stood back as the pair caught up. He felt extremely uncomfortable being in the same room with the two of them. Much as he was a good liar, it still made Doug feel awful that whilst Mark had been tirelessly working to save Carol's life, he had been with Susan. Little did he know that things were about to get much worse…

'Susan! Hi!' both Carol and Mark were clearly delighted to see Susan, who smiled weakly at their greetings.

'Hi' she said, reticently.

'No offense, but you look much better than last night' said Carol. This was true: Susan had spent yesterday dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt thrown on in haste, no make-up to cover the fact that she hadn't slept and was slightly hung-over, and a pained expression etched on her face. Not that she had slept very much last night, either, but she was at least covered in war-paint and dressed appropriately for work this morning.

'Last night?' said Mark, confused.

'Susan was here when I woke up' said Carol, much to Mark's surprise. Why hadn't she bothered to tell Mark that Carol was awake?

'Oh' he said 'I only just found out a couple of minutes ago' he said, glancing back and forth between Susan and Doug.

'Sorry buddy' interrupted Doug, 'I told Susan to get home with Jake. I said that I'd tell you, but I ended up falling asleep until just now'.

'Right' said Mark, slightly annoyed. There was something not quite right about all this – Mark could feel an uneasiness in the room – but then again, he knew that they'd all been through a lot: with Carol's accident, she and Doug becoming parents, Mark's promotion and Susan's return to work, it seemed like their lives were changing rapidly, and it would take some time to adjust. Mark suddenly realized how much strain he'd been under, and decided to do something about it.

'Is Jake in daycare? I'm gonna take him home' he declared.

'Aren't you on today?' asked Susan.

'Not any more!' he said. Recent events had made him see that he was missing out on the important things - his family, his friends, even his health was deteriorating as he had been getting terrible headaches. It was time he took a few days out to relax.


	16. Chapter 16

'Ouch!' Susan was having another disastrous day in the ER. This time she had somehow managed to stab herself with a shard of glass from a broken test tube. Thankfully, it hadn't yet been in contact with any samples or chemicals, but it hurt nonetheless.

'Bad day?' asked Kerry, who had been standing behind her.

'You could say that' she said looking at the wound on her palm.

'Here, let me take a look' offered Kerry, leading her into an exam room.

Susan sat down wearily on the bed as Kerry grabbed a suture kit.

'It's going to need stitches, I'm afraid, but I guess you already know that' Kerry said, gently placing Susan's palm on the tray. Susan winced as Kerry began irrigating the wound.

'Don't be such a baby!' Kerry teased, noticing her pained expression. 'It's not that bad'.

'That's easy for you to say' Susan replied, hinting that the physical wound on her palm was the least of the hurt she suffered.

'Susan, I….I hope I'm not speaking out of turn, and I know we've never really seen eye to eye, but we've been getting on so well lately and I just wanted you to know that, well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here' Kerry's face reddened as she continued to speak. It wasn't easy for her to speak to someone on a friendly basis. 'It's just that, since you came back yesterday, you just seem, I don't know, distant'.

When Susan failed to reply, Kerry looked up from the palm she had been so delicately repairing to find a tear trickling down Susan's cheek.

'Oh Susan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you' she said, meeting her eyes.

'No Kerry, I'm fine, really. It's just everything that's been going on, y'know? My return to work's been a disaster, and Carol's accident…' she trailed off, weary not to say too much. But on the other hand, she had been desperate to tell someone. She had even considered seeing a therapist again, just to have someone to talk to who wasn't wrapped up in this whole sorry mess, someone who would just listen and not judge.

'Is there something about the accident that you'd like to tell me? It's OK, y'know, I won't tell anyone' Kerry reassured her, wiping the tears from her cheeks. In truth, the whole ER had been speculating about the accident, and rumors were rife.

But Kerry had never been one to get involved in idle gossip. Susan knew that. This was the only reason she could think of later as to why she said what she did next.

'The night of the accident, Doug and Carol came by my place for dinner. Only I thought they were coming the next night, so I was totally unprepared. They came in and I went to the kitchen to get drinks, and when I came back, Carol was gone – she'd just upped and left, taking Doug's car that they'd both came in.'

'Susan, you have no reason to feel guilty. There was nothing you could've done – she left of her own free will, you couldn't stop her and even if you could, you didn't know she was going to be in an accident' Kerry interrupted, placing a hand on Susan's arm to comfort her.

'No, that's not it. Carol was in the accident at ten, but Doug and I didn't arrive til six the next morning. We drank margheritas, ordered take-out, Carol could have died without either of us there because…'

'Susan, you can't think like that! Just because you and Doug were having a good time doesn't mean you've somehow failed Carol…'

'Kerry, me and Doug were having sex'. There, she had said it. Susan's bluntness shocked them both into a stunned silence. Susan couldn't believe that she had actually said it out loud. It somehow confirmed that it was all real, that it had happened.

Kerry, meanwhile, was taken by a sudden need to comfort Susan, to hold her and tell her everything was going to be OK. So that's what she did. She moved over to the bed Susan was perched on and embraced her. This act of pure kindness, of forgiveness, the lack of moral judgement moved Susan to tears once more. After a minute or so like this, Kerry pulled back and looked Susan in the eyes again. She used her thumbs to once more gently wipe away the tears that stained Susan's cheeks. 'Shhhh…' she said, suddenly finding herself moving closer to her, her lips pressing against hers. When Susan failed to kiss back, she hurriedly pulled away.

'I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry…' Kerry trailed off. Horribly embarrassed by what she had just done, she got up to leave.

'Kerry, wait' said Susan, suddenly even more confused than ever. 'We need to talk about this'.

Kerry hesitantly returned to her original seat on the stool, and stared at the floor.

'Kerry, are you gay?' asked Susan softly, trying to catch her eye.

'I…I don't…I guess so' she admitted, resignedly.

'How long have you known?' said Susan, now trying to comfort Kerry.

'About three minutes' she replied, trying and failing to joke about the matter. 'I started feeling…different around you that first day we went for coffee. I don't know what it was, you just looked so beautiful, and I couldn't help noticing I guess. At first I though I was just pleased that we seemed to be getting along well – I mean, I knew you'd always hated me, and I've always struggled with making friends….'

'I've never hated you, Kerry. I just wanted you to cut me some slack when I was looking after Susie'.

'You don't have to pretend, Susan. I know I've never been popular in the ER. Anyway, it was like suddenly I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'm surprised Mark didn't figure it out, I was always asking about you. But I still didn't know myself – that I felt that way about you, I mean. I've never really wanted to be friends with anyone before, so I assumed that that was all it was….'

'Until now' said Susan, finishing Kerry's sentence.

'Until now' Kerry agreed. 'Seeing you the last couple of days, so clearly hurting, all I've wanted to do was to hold you, to comfort you, to tell you it's all going to be OK. And then, just now, I got such a strong desire to kiss you….I'm so sorry, Susan'.

'You have nothing to apologize for, Kerry. I never realized that you felt this way. So what are you going to do?'

'Well, since I have to join the queue behind Mark and Doug for you – ' they both managed to smile at the comment, '- I don't know. Hit some gay bars, maybe. Perhaps join a dating agency. I guess I have a whole new area of my life to explore' Kerry's tone had suddenly become one of optimism.

'What about you?' she asked.

'Me?' replied Susan, confused.

'What are you going to do about Doug? And Mark? And Carol? That's quite a triangle – no, quadrangle – you've gotten yourself caught up in!' Kerry was somehow managing to make the best of a bad situation, now that she had realized the source of her own unhappiness and was determined to do something about it.

'I…' she began, before Haleh burst in.

'Multiple MVA, first patients rolling up at the back door, we could use some help, ladies' she said, eyeing them both suspiciously.

'We'll be right there', said Kerry, following her to the door before turning round to add: 'Thanks, Susan. Remember, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on….'

Susan smiled in return, and Kerry was gone. She took a few moments to wash her face in the basin, before heading out with renewed confidence to face the world. In truth, she didn't know what she was going to do, but she suddenly felt like a great weight had been lifted.

That evening, Susan hummed to herself cheerfully as she headed though the parking lot. The humming and the click of her heels on the concrete were the only noises. She spotted her car in the distance, beneath a flickering neon light in the far corner of the lot. As she got closer, she noticed the buzzing sound the failing light made as it flicked on and off in an irregular pattern. Reaching the car, she took the keys from her pocket.

'Damn!' she said aloud as the keys clattered on the concrete floor, coinciding with the exact moment that the strip light finally died out. She squatted down and felt around the cold floor for the keys. A few moments passed before she finally found them under the car. Feeling triumphant, she smiled as she got the key in the lock.

Suddenly, a gloved hand was over her mouth, the other round her waist. She immediately leaned back and lifted her legs off the floor, pushing her feet against her own car in a vain but spirited effort to slam her assailant into the next car over. The struggle lasted only moments, however, as she realized that she was getting woozy, from whatever it was that was on the cloth over her mouth. She tried to hold her breath, but it was too late: whatever it was had already taken hold, and as she fell unconscious she mentally scolded herself for not realizing sooner.


	17. Chapter 17

Hello! Thanks for sticking with the story – your words of encouragement have been really touching. Glad you like it! I will try to update as often as possible – but, as I'm sure you've gathered, it isn't always possible!

Thanks again, Lou x

'This is what it's all about' Mark thought to himself as he casually pushed Jake's stroller along the sidewalk. It had been a beautiful bright day, the temperature just right, but now the sun was setting and a chill was forming in the air. Mark always felt nostalgic at this time of year: the nights drawing in, the dropping temperatures, the crisp leaves littering the streets, they all reminded him that another Summer had passed him by. The sense of loss, however, was matched by the tingle of excitement that the rapidly approaching holiday season brought (even if it did seem to come around sooner with every passing year). This would be the first Christmas where Jake really knew what was going on, and Mark planned to make it as magical as possible – he had already ensured that he and Susan weren't on the schedule, for a start.

As they approached the house, Mark noticed some movement on the front lawn, by the bushes under the window. He assumed it was Jemima, the next-door neighbours' cat. Susan swore that Jane Perkins, their snooty neighbour, had trained her precious Jemima to take a crap on their lawn instead of soiling her own garden. Mark, ever the diplomat, thought this was nonsense, but he had to admit that that would be the second time he had seen the creature doing it's business on their property since he walked out of work that morning.

Mark let himself into the dark house and set about turning on all the lights. Exhausted as he was, he felt like a great weight had been lifted since he decided to take a few days off work. Any pangs of guilt had vanished that afternoon as he had finally got to spend some quality time alone with his son. His plans for this evening were to feed and bathe his son before reading him a bedtime story, and to cook for his wife then maybe take a bath together and watch some garbage on TV. Perfect. These simple everyday activities had become alien to Mark over the past few months, and he was acutely aware that his excessive working hours were affecting everyone in his life.

After settling Jake in the play pen, Mark noticed that it was now completely dark. He had wanted to leave the curtains open so that he'd know when Susan was home and could surprise her with the flowers he had bought her that afternoon, but Jake was always unsettled by the dark – Susan must be running late.

'Aaaaargh!' Mark nearly had a heart attack as Joe Brennan popped up from behind the bushes and stood grinning at him on the other side of the glass. He immediately stormed to the door.

'What the hell are you doing!' he shouted as Brennan approached.

'Sorry to scare you, Dr Greene. I lost my watch earlier and I was just looking for it' he said apologetically.

'Oh' said Mark, realizing that he was far too tense. 'Want to come in? I need to write you a cheque for this week anyway'.

'Sure' he replied, gazing at the décor as he followed Mark through to the lounge.

'So, you not in work today?' said Joe, whilst Mark rummaged through a drawer for his cheque book. As he spoke, he approached the mantle and picked up a photo of Mark, Susan and Jake.

'No' replied Mark, 'I'm taking a few days off'.

'Good for you, Dr Greene' replied Joe. Mark turned around and noticed that Joe was staring at the photo. 'Any big plans?'

'No, I'm just gonna spend some time with my son. That's a big enough plan for me at the moment' Mark smiled as he tore off the cheque and approached Joe, who carefully placed the photograph back in its spot.

'Hey, nothing wrong with spending a bit of time with the ones you love' Joe said as he folded the cheque and put it in his back pocket. It was then that Mark noticed how clean Joe looked – his clothes were immaculate, he was well groomed and he smelled nice.

'Was it expensive?' asked Mark. He suddenly felt uneasy; it was clear that Joe hadn't been working in the garden any time recently – he had been home and come back.

'Sorry?' asked Joe, confused.

'The watch' replied Mark.

'Not really, but it has sentimental value. I wanted to wear it tonight'.

'You got a hot date?'.

'Something like that' said Joe, smiling.

'Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Bye Dr Greene' Joe suddenly seemed in a hurry to leave.

'Call me Mark' he replied, showing Joe to the door. He was just closing it when Joe turned round and said 'Tell Susan I said hi'.

'Sure' he replied, and in his mind he added 'if she ever gets home'.

'Mmmmmmmm' Carol was having her feet rubbed by Doug.

'If I'd have known this is what happens when you get in an accident, I'd have crashed my car a long time ago' she joked.

'Hey – don't even joke about that' said Doug, unamused.

'Do you want a boy or a girl?' she asked him, secretly hoping he'd say girl.

'I don't care as long as they're healthy' he replied.

'I know, I know – but what do you want? You can tell me, I won't get upset' they both knew that Doug would be in trouble if he produced the wrong answer.

'A boy' he began, but seeing Carol's face, he added 'or a girl. Seriously Carol, I'll be dragging our kid to Bulls games no matter what'.

'You could go with Mark and Jake. Do you think our baby will get along with Jake? If it's a girl they could be childhood sweethearts, then we wouldn't have to worry about meeting his parents because they'd already be our best friends! Me and Susan could plan the wedding and….'

'Whoah! Let's just get through the next nine months then take it from there, huh?' snapped Doug, dismissively.

'I was only joking, Doug. Why are you so snappy lately?' asked Carol.

'I am not snappy' he replied unconvincingly.

'You're snapping at me, you were rude to the doctors who looked after me, and when I came round you were even arguing with Susan' she said accusingly.

'I was not arguing with Susan' he said flatly.

'The hell you weren't! What was that all about, anyway? You never did tell me' she inquired.

'It was nothing. We were both just tired, that's all'.

'Susan was screaming that you've ruined all our lives because she was tired? I don't buy it, Doug. She's used to being tired – she's a resident, for Christ's sake!'.

Doug incriminated himself with his silence. He just didn't know what to say. He was exhausted, and now that he was going to be a father he knew he had to learn not to get himself tangled up in any more lies. Sure, he could just do what he always did, make up some pathetic version of events to pacify Carol, talk Susan into keeping quiet, but they were pretty sure someone at the hospital had already worked out what had gone on between them. He knew, like he always knew, that it would only be a matter of time before he would get caught out. If he was going to be responsible for a child, a good role model, he had to start again – no more lies, even if this meant losing Carol.

'What is it Doug? Because you're the father of my baby and she's one of my closest friends and whatever it is, you two are gonna have to get over it because I can't do this without both your support'.

Doug had been staring at his shoes. He laughed nervously, then looked up to face Carol's concerned expression. He reached out and held her hand.

'The night of the accident' he began, unsure of the best way to put this horrible confession to cause the least amount of pain.

'Yes?' she said, fear in her eyes.

'After you left, Susan and I had a few drinks. Well, a lot of drinks, actually…'

'And you ended up arguing. Jeez, Doug, big deal'

'No, let me finish. We had a few drinks and we, we got talking, and you and I hadn't been getting on for a while, and Mark, he's been at work all the time since he started this new head honcho thing, and I guess we were both pretty lonely, and I don't really know which one of us initiated it but – but we ended up sleeping together, Carol' Doug thought he could pinpoint the exact moment that her eyes filled with pain and heartbreak. They sat in silence for a few moments.

'Carol, it didn't mean anything, just two lonely, drunk, stupid people – friends – I mean, I've never really seen her as anything more than that, and I've never wanted to, it's always been you, Carol, and I just want you to understand that….'

'Shut up, Doug' she said, tears welling in her eyes.

'I…'

'Shut up, and get out of my house' her voice strained with emotion as she spoke.

'Carol, don't do this…'

'Don't do this? Don't do what, Doug? Don't throw you out for being a cheating, manipulative bastard? Don't hate you for having sex with my best friend whilst I was lying in a coma pregnant with your child? Don't wish I'd never been so _stupid_ as to take you back? Well I'm sorry, Doug, but I'm finished with listening to you, I'm finished with listening to the same excuses, the same promises, and I'm tired of forgiving you, and trusting you, and loving you only to have it yet again thrown back in my face. Now go, and don't come near me, or my baby, ever again'.

Somehow, Doug knew that this was it. The final straw. There was now nothing left for him in Chicago any more. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He had to get out.

'Goodbye, Carol' he said, knowing that it would be a long time before he saw her again. Or any of them. Whether or not she told Mark was up to her. He told himself that he no longer cared. And yet tears welled in his eyes as he closed the door behind him.


	18. Chapter 18

'Wakey, wakey! Rise and shine, sleepyhead!'.

'I'll be out in a minute' Susan mumbled, without opening her eyes. She didn't recognize the voice, but she assumed it was a temp. She had a pounding headache and wondered how much of her shift was left.

'Now, bitch' she opened her eyes just in time to see a glass of ice cold water being thrown in her face. She immediately tried to sit up, but it was impossible. The water was a shock and she had to take a minute to catch her breath. Her eyes darted about the room as she hurriedly appraised the situation.

Her arms were tied to the posts of a bed, as were her feet. The room was small, and painted blue with the planets of the solar system on one feature wall. There was a small bookcase, a small wardrobe, a small desk…it was a child's room. Where the hell was she?

She then turned her attention to her attacker – her kidknappper, she supposed. He was fairly tall and well-built, dressed in jeans, work boots and a sweater. 'His face, got to remember his face' she thought, trying to go through a mental inventory of the sorts of things she'd heard cops asking whenever a victim had been brought in. 'Damn' she thought as he came back into her eye line, and she realized he was wearing a balaclava.

A victim. She was a victim now – a victim of what? She felt nauseous as it suddenly occurred to her what he could've done to her whilst she'd been unconscious. She was relieved, however, when she looked down and realized that she was still wearing her panty hose. Her coat and shoes, however, had been removed. She had no idea how long she'd been out. Early morning sunlight was pouring in through the thin curtains, bathing the room in an eerie blue light.

'Why are you doing this?' she asked, aware that she should try not to make him angry; it was more than likely he had some sort of psychological problem, after all. She was desperate not to display emotion, but the unmistakable tint of fear was audible in her words.

'And what is it exactly that I'm doing, Dr Lewis?' he replied, palpable hatred in his voice.

So he knew her in her professional capacity. She tried to think back over the few shifts she had worked since her return. Had she pissed anybody off? Sure, but enough to make them want to hurt her? Whatever he had used to knock her out was still having an effect on her and she found it impossible to think clearly.

'I don't know, but I sure as hell don't like it' she replied, immediately regretting her words.

'Oh, so you doctors don't know everything? You just like to think you do?' he said, raising his voice and marching over to her. He squatted beside the bed, his face no more than six inches from hers. Susan felt her heart pounding rapidly in her chest and tears forming in her eyes.

'Drink this' he said, holding a glass of clear liquid to her dry lips. She pressed her lips together tightly, refusing to drink even though she was desperately thirsty.

'Drink it!' he yelled. Susan could feel herself quivering with fear, but still refused to drink. He hurled the glass at the far wall, and it shattered into thousands of fragments. The water ran down the wall, turning what was a child's painting of the planet Jupiter into a runny mess.

'Now look what you've done!' he screamed, slapping her hard across the face. She whimpered as tears streamed down her cheeks.

'What are you going to do to me?' she asked, knowing that she wouldn't like the answer.

'Whatever the hell I like' he replied, pulling out a syringe and injecting her. She was out cold before she could even start to protest.

Carol hadn't slept. She felt like she'd never sleep again. As she flicked around the TV channels she was shocked to discover the 6 a.m. news bulletins. Had she really been sat there all night? She thought back over the last eight hours – she couldn't name a single programme that she'd watched. She got up to make herself some coffee, only to realize that she wasn't drinking coffee any more. She headed the fridge to get herself some juice, but the carton was empty. Could she face a trip to the store? Was she in any fit state to venture into the outside world?

She headed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. What she saw was, well, a mess. She saw a face stained with tears, eyes bloodshot, baggy and sunken, and full of despair. She tied her hair back and splashed her face with water, but when she looked again there was no improvement. It was as if all the pain and misery of the last eight hours had somehow imprinted itself on her face, scarring her for life.

And that's what she knew this pain would be – for life. She thought back over all the defining moments of her life, things that had changed her irreparably: her overdose, being jilted on her wedding day, now this final betrayal by the love of her life. No, her life was meant to be a tragedy, with one disaster after another grinding her down until she could take no more. Well, she thought – I can't take anymore.

She slowly reached out and touch her reflection, the glass hard and cold to the touch, the antithesis of the real her. Then, she slowly opened the cabinet and found at least 200 pills, all casually thrown in there, housed in vacuum-formed packs and screw-top bottles of all shapes and sizes. Her mother used to check the cabinet regularly, throwing things out and ensuring nothing was there in a potentially fatal quantity, but she had lapsed in the last year or so.

She picked up a bottle and rattled it. It was nearly full, and she smiled. She undid the lid and took out a single bright pink pill. She looked at it for a moment, sat in the middle of her palm. She had always been fascinated by medicine. It had always astounded her; if your body was made up of so much water, how did one tiny pill not manage to get diluted? How did your body know where to send the medicine? She knew she would've made a great doctor, but circumstances had always been against her: yes, her life had definitely been a tragedy, punctuated by brief moments of happiness that never lasted and always ended in pain.

She picked up the bottle and tipped all its contents into her palm. Suddenly, she was shaking. Thoughts flashed through her mind: what about Mom? Doug? Her friends? Her colleagues? Screw them, she thought. She was sick of them: Mom always judging her, Doug always breaking her heart, her friends betrayed her and her colleagues were usually too wrapped up in their own lives to give a damn. She owed them nothing.

Water. She'd need a glass. She tried to empty the handful of pills back into the bottle but she was shaking so much that they went everywhere. Frustrated, she threw the bottle into the sink and headed off to get the water. She just wanted to be free of this pain. She set the water down on the table in the lounge and stomped into the bathroom with renewed determination: this was it. She grabbed everything she could carry from the medicine cabinet and dumped it all on the coffee table. She turned off the TV, determined that her last living moments would not be spent watching drivel. She sat down, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

It was then that there was a knock at the door. Frustration flashed in her eyes and she decided to ignore it. This was followed by a louder knocking. She sighed, praying for whoever it was to go away. But the knocking started again. 'Carol?…….Doug?……..it's me, John'.

'Dammit Carter!' she muttered to herself, getting up to answer the door. She yanked it open in obvious rage.

'What d'you want, Carter?' she said impatiently.

'Is this a bad time? I didn't mean to wake you, I just though you'd already be up with Doug having a shift today. I just wanted to see how you are and give you these' he said, pulling a huge, stunning bouquet of flowers from behind his back 'I hear congratulations are in order' he said, beaming.

Carol felt the tears welling in her eyes.

'Come in, Carter' she said.

'Hey, I didn't mean to upset you' he began, stepping inside, 'I just thought they'd be a nice gesture, y'know, to let you know that we're all thinking about you and we can't wait to have you back at work next-' he trailed off, spotting the myriad of pills on the coffee table.

'What's this?' he said as he turned to face her, horrified.

'It's….I…' she burst into tears and hugged Carter, who hugged her back.

'Ssssh' he said 'It's ok. We're gonna figure this whole thing out'.


	19. Chapter 19

Beep bleep. Beep bleep. Beep bleep.

Mark was woken by the familiar, despair-inducing sound of his pager. He grabbed it off the bedside table and squinted as he tried to focus enough to be able to see it. He sighed and picked up the phone, turning to see if Susan had been woken.

But Susan wasn't there. 'Oh great' he thought 'there must've been a big disaster that's kept her there all night'.

As soon as someone picked up, he started to talk: 'Hi, it's Mark. What's up?' he barked.

'Hey Mark, it's Kerry. I've been here for twenty -' she paused to look at the clock '- five hours now and I'd really like to go home.'

'Good for you' snapped Mark, irritably 'What does that have to do with me?'

'Well I could just walk out, but since Susan, Doug, Carter and Carol have all failed to turn up for their shifts I thought that might be just a little irresponsible'.

'What do you mean?' said Mark, confused.

'I mean, Mark, that I'm the only doctor here, I've been the only doctor here all night and frankly I'm getting a little irritated with this conversation. It's your ER, Mark – get down here and run it!'

'Isn't Susan with you?' he asked, suddenly agitated.

'Susan left 12 hours ago. Isn't she with you?'

'No she never came home. Look, Kerry, I'll be there as soon as I can. Can you just ask around and check all the exam rooms to make sure she's not just sleeping somewhere?'

'Sure. Anything else? It's not like I'm single-handedly running an emergency department, or anything' she said cattily.

'Call me if you find her' he added, putting the phone down without a goodbye. Seventeen minutes later, he and Jake were out of the house and heading to the hospital.

'What happened?' said Carter, handing Carol a mug of hot tea. She was still trembling and her cheeks were stained with fresh tears.

'I threw Doug out' she replied, staring straight ahead as Carter sat down next to her.

'What? But you two were so happy together. He never left your side once after the accident'.

'Well, it's what happened before the accident that's the problem'.

'Oh' said Carter, 'He was cheating on you?'

'On the night of the accident' she replied, 'Only he was too chicken to tell me until I got out of the hospital. Didn't want me spreading his dirty laundry all round the ER'.

'I see' said Carter, slightly embarrassed.

'Well?' said Carol, turning to look him in the eye, 'Aren't you going to ask?'

'Ask what?' he replied, puzzled.

'For the details. That's what you want to know, right? Hell, that's what I'd want to know. That's what the whole of the ER will want to know the second I get back there. Of course, no one will just come right out and ask me. No, _that _would be rude. But they'll all sneak around, talking about me behind my back, gossiping, speculating. They'll all pull me to one side and say, 'Hey, Carol, if you ever need to talk….', but what they really want is the details.' Carol's voice began to break up with emotion.

'Hey' said Carter softly, reaching out and holding her hand, 'All anyone wants is to see you happy. And I know that maybe Doug won't be around, but you're not gonna be able to stop everyone offering you help and support with this baby. You've got a hell of a lot of friends in the ER, Carol' he said with a smile.

'You don't get it, do you? I can't go back to the ER. Not now, not after the baby's born – never'.

'It may seem daunting at first, but I'm sure….'

'No!' she shouted, and Carter was a little taken aback.

'I understand that it might remind you of Doug, but all your friends will be there: Mark, Susan….'

Carol started to laugh: a cheerless, bitter laugh.

'Carter, were you on when I was brought in after the accident?' she asked, desperate not to spell out the awful reality of the situation.

He nodded as he tried to think back.

'And were you around when Doug arrived?' she said.

'Yeeeees, but – ' he began, unsure where all this was going.

'And who did he arrive with?' she asked, slowly and deliberately as she set down her mug on the coffee table.

'Erm…oh – Susan. He arrived with Susan and Jake. Yeah, I remember, they both turned up looking pretty rough, I can tell you, then Doug headed straight to see you, Mark went after him, one of the nurses took Jake and then Susan waited for Mark. She looked awful, like she hadn't slept, and…….' he trailed off, suddenly realizing what Carol was trying to tell him.

'You mean?' he began, with a look of utter disbelief and a tone to match.

Carol nodded.

'Doug…and Susan?'

'You want another coffee?' she asked, getting up and picking up her own mug.

'Sure' he said, still in a daze from what he'd just heard.

'Shit!' she said as her mug shattered into pieces on the kitchen floor. Tears streamed down her face as she began manically picking up the pieces, as if that would make everything OK.

'Carol, stop' said Carter, kneeling next to her on the kitchen floor. 'You've cut yourself' he said, gently taking her palm and opening it to reveal a wide laceration.

'That's going to need stitches' he said.


	20. Chapter 20

Having dropped Jake at the crèche, Mark burst into the ER.

'Kerry!' he said breathlessly, finding her at the desk, 'Did you find her?'

'Come with me' she said calmly, aware that several members of the staff had conveniently edged closer to find out what was going on. They headed to the lounge.

'For God's sake just tell me!' he said, shrugging off Kerry's arm that was trying to gently usher him towards the lounge.

'She's not here, Mark' she said. 'But I don't want to cause a mass panic amongst the staff. Have you called relatives? Friends?'

'Not yet' he said as he began pacing up and down the hallway.

'Are you sure she's not here?' he began systematically working his way through the ER: opening doors, pulling curtains, each time finding himself apologizing to patients rather than finding his wife.

'Mark, slow down' said Kerry, struggling to keep up with him. 'I've already checked. She signed out just after seven. Nobody's seen her since then'. But it was too late – Mark was frantic. Having checked everywhere, he grabbed the phone at admit and called security.

'Hi, this is Mark Greene in the ER, I need see the CCTV footage from about twelve hours ago'.

'Don't you think you're being a bit hasty?' said Kerry, in what she thought was a sympathetic tone.

'She would've called' he said calmly as he waited on hold.

'You could call her parents, her sister maybe, her friends….'

'She would've called!' he yelled, furious that he seemed to be the only one with any sense of urgency here. 'Now I'm sorry that you've been here so long, and I'm sorry that I can't start work right now, but even though you obviously don't give a damn that my wife is missing I do, so get off my back, Kerry!'

'I have patients' she replied, clearly trying to conceal her emotions before walking away.

'Oh, she gives a damn' said Haleh as she passed, giving Mark a knowing look. He frowned, confused by the comment, but as someone in the CCTV room finally picked up he didn't give it a second thought.

Ten minutes later, in the security office, Mark watched the grainy picture as his wife walked down a hallway. It then flicked to a different angle as she pushed a door and started to walk across the parking lot. A third angle showed her walking to the far end of the lot, where a light flickered.

'That's her car' said Mark. 'Isn't there a better shot? It's kind of dark' he asked, leaning in closer.

Pure terror gripped him as a dark figure suddenly appeared behind Susan. As if watching a horror film, Mark willed her to run away, to find safety.

But this wasn't a movie. This was the reality of what had happened to his wife. Mark stared in disbelief as the figure grabbed her from behind, she struggled for maybe ten seconds, and then suddenly her body went limp, lifeless. He watched as the attacker dragged her round to the back of the car and bundled her into the trunk, before calmly getting into the driver's seat, starting the ignition and slowly driving away.

'Eddie, call 911 – we got an emergency' said one of the security guards, as Mark sank into a chair.

As always, news traveled fast around the ER. Due to the staffing situation, the department was closed to trauma and the lack of patients seemed to add to the somber tone of the place.

A moonlighter, Luka Kovac, was standing at the desk as Carol and Carter arrived.

'Can I help you?' he said as the pair stood on the other side of the desk, Carol pressing a dressing to her hand.

'What's open?' said Carter.

Luka looked confused.

'Oh, sorry, I'm Dr Carter, I work here. And this is Carol Hathaway, our nurse manager'.

'I see' he said, 'Well, take your pick – pretty much everything is open since we're closed to trauma'.

'Really?' said Carter, 'How come?'

Luka looked at Carol as he spoke, who had been staring at the floor the entire time she'd been stood there.

'I'm afraid one of your colleagues has been abducted from the parking lot. A doctor – Susan Lewis'.

'What?' Carol looked up, straight into Luka's eyes. Luka was startled by the pain he found there, and tried to be as tactful as possible.

'I'm sorry, I don't know much. It happened last night, after her shift, but they only just realized this morning. Dr Greene is talking to the police in the lounge now. They are in a relationship, is that right?'

'Married' replied Carter, 'With a son. Mark must be frantic' he said, rubbing the back of his head.

'There is nothing worse than losing a loved one' said Luka.

'You speak from experience?' asked Carol, before adding, 'Sorry, that was insensitive. It's none of my business'.

'It's ok' he said softly, 'I lost my wife and children back home in Croatia'.

'Oh, I'm so sorry' replied Carol.

'You have lost someone too?' he inquired, sensing her pain.

'Yes. No. I – I don't know' she said, suddenly reassessing her situation in light of Luka's confession and Susan's abduction. She suddenly felt melodramatic, foolish; Doug hadn't died, or been taken away. She loved him, but she hadn't lost him in that ultimate, final sense.

'Let's get that hand stitched up' said Carter, 'See you later, Luka'.

'See you' he replied, smiling at Carol as Carter led her away.


	21. Chapter 21

The police spent all morning interviewing the entire ER staff, but the more people they spoke to, the more confusing the whole picture seemed to be: the one thing they all seemed to be able to agree on was that Susan was an incredibly popular woman. Detective Warner looked over his notes:

Interview with Dr Mark Greene, victim's husband and boss, 8.12 am….genuinely distressed, no clue as to motive for attack…..convinced victim is a devoted wife and mother….she has taken on too much with return to work full time…gardener (Joe Brennan) was snooping in bushes at the family home last night…..looking for watch, picked up picture of victim when inside house and asked husband to send his regards….very anxious, blames himself for not protecting her…was at home with son at time of abduction.

Interview with Dr Kerry Weaver, senior colleague, regards herself as friend, 8.57 am…guilty about not raising alarm sooner….victim had been feeling upset and overwhelmed during last shift, Weaver had comforted her….they had grown closer recently…had previously clashed over victim's commitment to bringing up her baby niece….victim's sister is a drug addict who dumped the baby on her, then claimed her back and took her away…no problems at home at present (seemed uncomfortable talking about this)…..devoted wife and mother, put family before work at all times…injured palm during last shift…seems guarded…last person to see victim…was at work at time of abduction.

Interview with nurse Haleh Adams, long-standing colleague, 9.15 am…victim seemed different since return to work, struggling to cope and making basic errors…victim very close to Dr Doug Ross, who failed to turn up for shift today, rang hospital to say he won't be returning, and his partner nurse manager Carol Hathaway, recently injured in MVA….victim also increasingly close to Dr Kerry Weaver, previously strained relationship…witnessed Weaver kissing victim at work yesterday…unsure as to victim's reaction as was called away, but upon returning and entering the room the pair seemed happy together…interviewee has always got on well with victim and does not know of anyone holding a grudge…popular with staff and patients alike…was at work at time of abduction.

Interview with Carol Hathaway, colleague and close friend of several years, 9.31 am…recently in MVA and pregnant with baby of Dr Doug Ross…argued with Ross last night and they split up…woke up from coma to discover Ross arguing with victim…confronted Ross and discovered the two had slept together…holds some ill feeling towards the victim, which she feels guilty about in light of events….has not spoken to or been contacted by Ross since yesterday afternoon….very upset about the whole situation…adamant that Ross would not have abducted victim….knows no-one who would want to hurt victim or Greene…..was home alone at time of abduction.

Interview with Dr John Carter, colleague and friend, 9.58 am…admits to hitting on victim several years ago but feels more like victim's little brother now…late for shift this morning as discovered nurse Carol Hathaway in a bad way….admits Hathaway was trying to kill herself after split with Ross….has just discovered that victim slept with Ross, is very shocked – seems uncharacteristic…adamant that Ross would not have abducted victim, though certain that Ross would have seduced victim and not the other way around, describing him as a 'lady's man'…very protective of both victim and ER colleagues, described them as 'family'…knows no-one with a grudge against victim or Greene….was home alone at time of abduction.

Warner was perplexed. On the one hand, it seemed that everyone loved this caring, kind-hearted family woman. But on the other, she was married to the boss, had a crazed drug-addict sister, had had an affair with her best friend's boyfriend, was being lusted over by a lesbian and seemingly every man she met – Greene, Ross, Carter, this gardener. Who knew what else she might've been hiding? Each interviewee seemed to bring with them a fresh revelation about this woman.

He picked up a small, wallet-sized photo that Dr Greene had given him, and stared intently at the smiling face he saw. 'What else are you hiding?' he said, getting up and opening her locker.

The first thing he found was a note, folded in half, with the word 'whore' scrawled across the page in red ink.

Susan's eyes snapped open and she glanced around, desperately hoping that this had all been some sort of horrible nightmare.

But no. She was still being held, her arms and legs still restrained. As she tested the range of her movement, she heard a now-sickening familiar voice.

'Ah, awake at last' he said, getting up from his chair and heading over. He sat on the bed as she squirmed, trying to loosen the restraints and taking quick, shallow breaths.

'Shhh' he said. She flinched as he stroked the side of her face. 'I was a cub scout. You'll never undo those knots'.

'If you let me go, I won't tell anyone. Just drop me off somewhere. I won't talk to the police. I promise' she pleaded, her voice shaking. Inside, she knew that if she ever did get out of here she'd go straight to the police, get them to send this bastard to jail to rot forever.

'Do you promise on your son's life?' he said coolly. Tears welled in her eyes.

'Please, don't touch my son. I'll do anything, anything you want, just don't touch him. Please.'

'What would I want from a whore like you? You're nothing, do you know that? I've seen you. With your husband, with his best friend - you disgust me' he showed his contempt by spitting in her face.

'And as for your son, well, I'm not like your husband. I don't just let people's children die. I just want him to know what it feels like to have someone you love taken away from you. So that he never does that to another person again' Susan looked up at him, into the eyes peering through the balaclava he still wore. He stared towards the window, with a deranged, distant look in his eyes.

She tried to think back, for any case where Mark had lost a child. But she couldn't recollect any. She had been so wrapped up in her problems recently that she had barely spoken to Mark, let alone discussed any patients.

'We can't save everyone' she said, in what she hoped was a sympathetic tone.

He looked down at her, rage burning in his eyes.

'Let's see if they can save you' he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a knife.


	22. Chapter 22

Nineteen hours. It had now been nineteen hours since his wife had been abducted, and Mark Greene was frantic. He had chosen to stay at the hospital; since it was the last place she had been seen, it somehow made him feel closer to her. Yet at the same time, he hated this place. It had robbed him of countless hours with his family over the last few months as he toiled away to keep the department afloat. And for what? So that some lunatic could snatch his wife from the dark concrete bowels of the hospital that was laughingly referred to as a 'secure car park', whilst the images flickered on a screen monitored by no-one since the day shift ended at 7pm and no-one cared that the night guy was running late.

Brennan. It had to be Brennan, thought Mark. The police said that they had sent someone round to his house but he wasn't there. He wasn't at work, either. Mark had seen the way he looked at her. And what had he been doing at the house last night? He was obviously surprised to see Mark instead of Susan. Mark scolded himself for not realizing what he was up to, for not spotting the signs. A thousand 'if only…'s ran through his mind.

'Hey Mark. How are you holding up?' Mark snapped out of his trance to find Kerry Weaver taking a seat next to him in the lounge.

'Go home, Kerry' he said flatly.

'I can't. I won't be able to sleep until I know she's ok' Kerry's words took Mark by surprise.

'Kerry, you've been here for thirty-five hours. Take a break. Get some air. At the very least head over to Doc's for an hour' Mark chose to ignore her comments about Susan – it was far too painful to discuss.

'Even if I wanted to, we're three doctors down out there and morale is rock bottom. We need to stick together at times like this. Most of last night's shift are still here; people just don't know what to do with themselves.' Kerry reached out and covered Mark's hand with her own.

'Three doctors?' said Mark, still desperate to avoid the real issue.

'You – Susan – and Doug.' She said slowly.

'Doug? Did he call in sick?'

'No – he quit.' Kerry was confused: why didn't Mark know that his best friend had left the department?

'What? He can't just…..what did Carol say?'

'They split up. Last night. Apparently, he's moving away and starting over.'

Mark felt sea sick. Everything seemed to have changed overnight. He thought that this might be another of the morbid dreams he'd been having lately, but he wasn't that lucky.

'So he doesn't know…..' Mark trailed off, unable to say the awful truth of the situation out loud.

'Mark, it's ok to be upset. We all are. I know they'll find her. She's a fighter, a survivor – she's always given as good as she gets and she's always come out on top.'

'If that's the way you feel, Kerry, then you could've shown it when she was around. Admit it – you've never liked her. Because she's warm, and friendly, and popular and she's always put family before the job, something _you_ could never understand' Mark knew he was only saying these things because of the stress he was under, but he refused to feel guilty. Here was this woman, who had never shown any respect for his wife, pretending to be upset that she was gone.

Tears rolled down Kerry's face, and her cheeks turned bright red in a mixture of anger and hurt. She took a second to regain some composure before she began to speak.

'Mark, if there is one single biggest regret in my life, it's how I treated Susan when we first met. I was rude, I picked on her, I scrutinized her work more closely and thoroughly than I have ever scrutinized anyone's work. But I did those things because I didn't know what else to do with my feelings towards her. I didn't even recognize what those feelings were. Those feelings were love, Mark, and recently Susan has been helping me come to terms with the fact that' she stumbled over the words 'the fact that I'm gay'. Kerry looked down as she said this, still unsure of how people would react and, as always, desperate for approval.

Mark was surprised by Kerry's confession, but it also scared him to think that Susan had parts of her life that he knew nothing about. He thought back. She had never even mentioned Kerry to him. What else could she have been hiding? Mark's confusion manifested itself in rage.

'Well good for you, Kerry. Is that supposed to make me feel better? Do you not think I have enough to deal with without listening to your problems? Do you think the fact that you're openly admitting to victimizing Susan is going to bring her back to me? Go home, Kerry.' With that, Mark left the table and headed out into the ER. He wanted to talk to the police, to get an update on what was happening, but as he walked across the floor, something caught his eye: sitting in chairs, holding a pad to his knee, was Joe Brennan.

Mark immediately flicked through the charts and found Brennan's, before heading over to him.

'Hi, Joe – right this way' he said, barely managing to conceal his rage.

He took him into an exam room and shut the blinds.

'Have a seat' he said, motioning for him to sit on the bed, 'What seems to be the problem?'

Joe described how he had accidentally cut himself whilst changing the blade on a lawn mower.

'I see' said Mark, 'I'll just get some local anesthetic to numb you up, then I'll throw in a few stitches. You'll be as good as new.'

Without speaking to anyone or making eye contact, Mark got what he needed from the drug lock-up and returned to the exam room.

'You'll feel a little scratch' he said, after filling a syringe with the contents of a small bottle.

Before Joe knew it, Mark had his left arm twisted in front of him, and the needle in.

'What the….' He began.

'Sshhh!' Mark commanded, 'Tell me where she is'.

'What? Where who is? Let me go!' he said, confused.

'My wife. What have you done with my wife. If you've so much as laid a finger on her, so help me God I'll….'

'I don't know what you're talking about Dr Greene, I swear!' beads of sweat were forming on Joe's forehead.

'Listen, you lying son of a bitch, there's more than enough potassium in this syringe to stop your heart in seconds. You've got until the count of five to tell me where she is, or I'll push it. You'll be dead in minutes. One….' Mark spoke calmly but the look in his eyes was manic.

'I don't know what you're talking about! I swear to God, I haven't seen Sus – Dr Lewis since I was at your house the other day'.

'Two…..then why the hell were you snooping around my house last night?'

'I told you, for the watch…'

'Three….Yeah, right. For your 'date'. Your only date was in the hospital car park at 7 to kidknap Susan'

'What! '

'Four….do you think I'm blind? I've seen the way you look at her, you sick bastard. Tell me!'

'Look at her? What are you talking about? Dr Greene, I've never touched your wife. I'm gay'.

'Dr Greene, put the syringe down' Detective Warner burst into the exam room, 'It's not him. His boyfriend confirmed that he was with him last night, and several witnesses confirm they where at a restaurant at the time of the abduction'.

Mark stared at Joe for a few minutes as the full horror of what he'd just done hit him. He had been about to murder an innocent man. As Joe ran out of the room, Mark slumped to the floor and, with his head in his hands, burst into tears.


	23. Chapter 23

'Hey Mark, it's me. I'm – well, I don't know where I am to be honest buddy – but I'm on my way north. An old college friend has offered me a job in Seattle, starting in a couple of weeks. It's a maternity cover – pretty ironic, huh? Well I guess you'll have heard all about me and Carol by now. Look out for her, will you? And go easy on Susan. She made a mistake, and I know she feels horrible about it. She's not like Jen, Mark. It's you she loves. I know you'll be apart right now, but you belong together. Remember that day at Union Station? You have to be strong like that again. I know you'll probably never be able to forgive me, but I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life, and maybe someday, who knows, we could be friends again. I guess I'm trying to say that I'm sorry. I'll miss you, buddy. Bye.'

Detective Warner could clearly see that Mark was baffled by this answerphone message, left earlier this morning by a Dr Doug Ross. The doctor was, however, much calmer now that Kerry Weaver had administered a slight sedative following his earlier outburst. Warner had managed to convince Joe Brennan to drop any charges against him once he'd filled him in on the whole situation.

'What does it all mean?' asked Mark as he fed his son some dinner in the doctor's lounge, under Warner's supervision.

'I'm afraid it means that your friend Dr Ross is now a suspect' replied Warner.

'What!' said Mark, 'That's crazy. Doug would never hurt Susan.'

'I'm afraid the timings, the events leading up to the attack and this message all suggest that he would. I hate to be the one to tell you this, Dr Greene, but your wife slept with this man a few weeks ago.'

Mark stopped what he was doing and looked up at Warner.

'No' he began, 'No, you're mistaken, detective, and frankly I don't appreciate you bad mouthing my wife and best friend'.

Warner sighed.

'From my investigations, I have determined that your wife and Dr Ross slept together at your house on the 24th – the same night Dr Ross's girlfriend, Carol Hathaway, was in an MVA. Furthermore, late yesterday afternoon Dr Ross confessed this to nurse Hathaway and she kicked him out. Nobody has seen him since. And then there's this message – I've had the specialists in, and Dr Ross's location is untraceable. From what he's saying, it sounds like he isn't planning on coming back any time soon.'

Mark took his time, and swallowed hard before he began to respond.

'Some psycho has taken my wife. I want you to get her back. Stop wasting time that she might not have on these ludicrous theories and find her, detective'

'I know this must be a lot to take in, Dr Greene, but I'm afraid we've got to look for the most likely angle. It is far more likely that someone know to the victim, someone who might bear a grudge, has taken her than a complete stranger,'

'But that's just the thing. Lots of complete strangers are known to her. She treats thousands of them, every year. Plenty of our patients come here with mental problems, plenty of cases end in grief, anger, resentment, blame. Then there are families, revenge attackers. You need to start looking through the patient files….'

'We've already looked, Dr Greene. All patients admitted to psychiatry or referred for grief counseling by your wife in the past year have been accounted for. Not one person is even remotely suspicious. The most likely suspect now is…'

'I don't care what you say. It's not Doug. I know it's not Doug. This whole conversation is ridiculous, and when some highway patrol guy in the middle of nowhere picks him up in a couple of days from now, it might be too late for Susan.'

'Mark' Kerry spoke softly as she entered the room.

'Paramedics are bringing in a Jane Doe, found in a park, naked and unconscious with multiple stab wounds. Early thirties, blonde hair, green eyes'.


	24. Chapter 24

A hush descended over the ER as news spread of the incoming patient. Without words, the staff had hurriedly prepared the trauma room and now stood in silence at the ambulance bay doors, willing the ambulance to get here soon but at the same time desperately not wanting it to be her. Against everyone's protestations, Mark had joined the staff and stood with them in gown and gloves. It was taking everything he had not to be violently ill right there, such was his fear and acute anxiety. The ambulance siren could be heard faintly in the distance, and as it grew nearer and nearer the adrenaline began to really kick in for everyone involved; Kerry Weaver could feel her heart pounding in her chest, whilst John Carter's hands began to tremble. All of them were desperately willing it not to be her.

Before the ambulance had even come to a stop the ER staff were banging on the doors for them to be opened. The tension was unbearable as one paramedic jumped out of the driver's side.

'Is it her?' Mark screamed at him.

'Who?' he replied, clearly unaware of events at the hospital as his colleague finally opened the rear doors of the ambulance.

Blonde hair. That was the first thing Mark saw. His stomach lurched and he pushed his colleagues out of the way and jumped up onto the rig. He saw creamy pale skin and a small frame. _Oh God_ he thought as he got closer, milliseconds away from seeing her face, discovering that….

'It's not her' he declared, helping the paramedic to get the gurney off the rig. Everyone present breathed a sigh of relief, but any feeling of joy was short-lived: this meant that she was still out there somewhere, in the hands of God knows who.

As always, the dedicated team worked to the best of their substantial abilities on the Jane Doe, but there was nothing they could do. An hour later, on his break, Carter found Warner alone in the doctor's lounge.

'Any news?' asked Carter, deeply concerned.

Warner shook his head.

'The Jane Doe – we're not dealing with some sort of serial killer, are we? I mean, she looked so much like Susan, maybe this guy is going after blondes or something….'

'Slow down, Dr Carter. They're not related. The Jane Doe turns out to be Kelly Stewart, a repeated victim of domestic violence known to the police. She had several opportunities to press charges against her husband, but was always too scared. Looks like he killed her, panicked and hid her body in the park. A unit picked him up at the family home half an hour ago.'

'Oh' said Carter, slightly disappointed that his observation was of no use. 'Is there anything I can do? I just feel so useless, like we're all just waiting for her to roll up in the back of an ambulance, half dead. And then there's everything else….with Carol, and Doug. It's just like everything's changed overnight, y'know?'

'Take a seat' replied Warner, motioning for Carter to sit down.

'Tell me about Dr Ross. What's he like….as a person, I mean. Did you two get on?'

'Yeah, sure. Well, not always. I mean, I was seeing this other med student once. Well, when I say _seeing_, we hadn't really…y'know…..well anyway, Doug slept with her and, well, let's just say things got kinda tense between us' Carter looked deep in thought as his mind played over the events.

'So he stole your girlfriend, basically' said Warner.

'Yes. I mean no. We weren't going out at the time, but we were getting close. I was pretty cut up about it….'

'So basically he ignored your feelings for this woman and seduced her anyway. And what was his relationship like with nurse Hathaway?' Warner had now taken out his notebook and began to scribble things down. Carter was proud to be of help, but didn't really see the relevance.

'Well they have a long history. They went out before I came to work here, but they split when he cheated on her. Then maybe a year ago they finally got back together – everyone knew they should've – you could tell it really cut him up when she went out with other guys. She nearly got married, once, but it didn't happen'.

'So Ross is the kind of guy that wants women he can't have, but when he falls for someone he doesn't want anyone else to have them' Warner was intrigued.

'I guess you could put that spin on it, but really….'

'Thank you, Dr Carter. I have some calls to make' said Warner as he headed out of the lounge.

'Glad to be of help' said Carter, slightly confused as he sipped his coffee.

She winced with pain as he carved a straight line down the inside of her right arm.

'You're very brave, Dr Lewis' he said, holding her still. 'You can scream, you know. No-one will hear you'.

She gave him a look of renewed determination, and remained silent.

'Fine' he said, holding a glass bottle under her wrist where a steady trickle of blood was now dripping from. 'But don't think it's going to be this easy. Don't think I'm just going to let you bleed to death like this. You're a doctor. You must see a hell of a lot of painful deaths in your profession' he laughed as he added the final comment.

Susan couldn't help but think back to all the times she had seen a patient die over a few hours, even days, in agony. There were so many physical states that the medical profession could do nothing for – not even the strongest drugs could heal some pain, she knew that. She turned her head away from him as she blinked back tears. The thought of never seeing Mark or Jake again was the most unbearable pain she could ever feel, and that was what she felt right now.

He grabbed her face roughly and snapped her head back round to face him. As he leaned in closer she could smell alcohol on him.

'You know, for a whore you're quite beautiful' he said. Tears rolled down her cheeks as he kissed her roughly and she felt his hand run up the outside of her thigh. She instinctively flinched away from him and he recoiled in rage, angry at both her and the weakness he himself had shown.

He returned his attentions to the task at hand, picking up the now half-full bottle of Susan's blood. She estimated that he'd taken about half a pint – not much, really, and not nearly enough to cause any kind of physical damage. As he began to wrap a bandage tightly around the wound on her arm, he seemed to be in a state of shock, disgusted at his actions moments ago. As he finished, however, he seemed to snap out of it.

'I'm sure your husband will appreciate this' he said with a smirk, referring to the bottle. 'Now don't you go anywhere, Susan' he said as he left the room and turned off the light. She heard the key turn in the lock as he left her alone in the darkness.


	25. Chapter 25

'I'm telling you, Ross is our man' Warner was on the phone to the precinct.

'This guy risked his life saving a couple of kids a few years ago. He got an award for heroism, for Chrissakes. Everyone who knows him is adamant he isn't the guy' said Warner's partner.

'So he's a risk taker. He doesn't think about the consequences of his actions. I've got a report here saying that he also punched some guys lights out because he thought he was abusing his kid. He clearly has an issue with impulse control.'

'I just don't know. So the guy sleeps around. So do half the guys on this force. You telling me they're all potential kidnappers?'

'Here's what I think happened. This guy is lousy with women – he can't stay in a relationship for more than five minutes. His best friend, meanwhile, is a bit of a geek, who's secretly in love with this other doctor. One day, this other doctor announces she's leaving, and the geek goes after her and gets the girl. Before you know it, this guy's best friend is happily married with a kid on the way. He panics – he can't be the loser. He gets back with this nurse but it's rocky, and he starts to really envy his best friend. He wants what he's got with his wife – literally. So one night, he gets this guy's wife pretty drunk and seduces her. But this nurse he's with, she's in an accident the same night, and it turns out she's knocked up. He realizes that he's had the chance to have what his best friend's got all along, but only now he's blown it and he can't handle it. If he can't be happy, no-one can. So he decides to take this guy's wife. He has access to all kinds of drugs to knock her out, he can just disappear without suspicion cos that's what he's always done when the heat is on.'

'Supposing this theory is correct, what's his next move?' Warner's partner was still cynical, but he had to admit that it kind of made sense.

'He doesn't want a ransom, that's for sure. It all depends on his state of mind. If he's remorseful, he'll let her go. If he's developed an obsession with her, that's where the danger lies. If she rejects him, there's no telling what he'll do' Warner thought he had it all figured out, but was still irritated by the fact he didn't have a clue how to find the victim.

'So what do we do?'

'We wait. It's the only thing we can do.'

'Sign here. Oh, and here' the UPS guy handed over the package to a very bored-looking Jerry as fast as he could.

He looked at the label. Dr Mark Greene. Freebies from some drug company were the last thing on his mind right now, so he placed it on a shelf and got on with what he had been doing: playing a video game.

'Who was _that_?' asked Randy, arriving for the morning shift.

'Couldn't you tell by the uniform?' replied Jerry sarcastically.

'He can deliver to me any time!' she replied.

'Well today he was delivering to Dr Greene' said Jerry in a scolding tone.

'Oh' she said 'Still no word on Dr Lewis?'

'Nothing' he said.

'Did the police talk to you? They told me to look out for suspicious characters hanging around – as if only normal-looking people come here! Oh, and he said to let him know if any phone calls or mail came for Dr Greene' she said, pointing at the package.

'Man, I have got to get off this night shift and back on days. I'm in charge of all this,' he waved his arms around to imply the admit area, 'and nobody tells me anything!'

'Sure, Jerry' replied Randy, rolling her eyes. 'I'll take this through to the lounge' she added, taking the parcel with her.

In the lounge, she found Mark spread out on the couch with his eyes closed, seemingly asleep. She was desperate not to disturb him, but he instantly opened his eyes and jerked up.

'Oh, hey Randy,' he said, before rubbing his eyes, 'what time is it?'

'A little after seven,' she replied, adding 'this just came for you.'

She handed him the package and he stared at the envelope blankly, wondering what meaningless documents it held within. He sighed.

'How's Jake?' she said, trying to take his mind off things.

'Lydia took him home with her last night. She and Al are looking after him today. I'm….I just….I don't know what to do. I can't have him around me, he just reminds me that she isn't here.'

'She'll turn up, y'know. She'll be fine. I just know it.'

'I wish I could feel the same way. I don't know what I'd do if…'

'Hey, don't talk like that. She wouldn't want you giving up on her, would she? Why don't you open your drug company freebie and take your mind off things.'

It was at this point that Mark noticed that the package had no stamps or postmark.

'Randy – call the cops' he said, carefully putting the package down and guiding Randy out of the lounge.

Once outside, word soon spread about the suspect package in the lounge. In the few minutes that it took for the police to arrive, Mark looked around the once-familiar ER. Everything seemed alien to him now. People were coming and going, rushing around. Treating and streeting, saving lives. Two days ago, he had been running this place. Now here he was, bewildered, unable to comprehend the events going on around him. People who had looked to him for leadership just 48 hours ago now gave him looks of intense pity; those close to Susan seemed to mirror his anguish in their own expressions, then look away quickly, unable to bear the misery in his eyes. This whole department had lost something, something tangible but indefinable, when they saw their chief in this state. When they knew that one of their own – someone tough, independent, reliable – had been taken, just like that. Everyone and everything seemed to Mark to be a blur now: background noise, a soundtrack to his own agony.

When Detective Warner and several uniformed officers burst in through the doors, it took Mark a few moments to comprehend what they were doing: evacuating the ER.

'Dr Greene, we have to get everyone out of here. You have to go now. Dr Greene….' An officer was ushering him out into the ambulance bay.

In the ambulance bay, a rig had just pulled up. Kerry Weaver was sending it's inhabitants away, shouting something about being closed to trauma….major evacuation….bomb scare.

Bomb scare? It didn't make sense, thought Mark through the fug of his emotions. Why would they take Susan then try to blow him up? Somehow, nobody noticed as he walked through the police cordon and back into the ER; there was so much chaos, shouting and screaming, that people paid him scant attention. He walk through the empty triage area, past admit and several curtain areas – the entire department was shrouded in an eerie silence.

Then he walked into the lounge. What he found was five men – Detective Warner and some officers from bomb disposal – standing around what looked like a piece of paper. They too failed to notice him at first.

'Doesn't look too good, does it?' said one of the officers.

'In all likelihood, she's probably dead. He's just torturing her husband now, the sick bastard'

'No' said Mark, tears welling in his eyes, 'No, she's not dead. I know it. What does it say?'

The five men stared in silence at Mark, not knowing what to say. Slowly, Detective Warner stood up from his crouching position and walked over to Mark. He placed a hand on his arm before speaking.

'Now you know what it's like to lose someone. It's written in blood, Mark. In all likelihood, hers'.


	26. Chapter 26

Hi folks!

Firstly, I'd like to offer huge thanks to everyone who's still reading. Many thanks for all the lovely feedback, I really appreciate it. Also, I'd like to apologize for the delay in updates: I've been really busy, sorry folks! Will try to update at least weekly from now on until this story is complete (which it is nowhere near, but never mind!). Finally, a warning about the content of this chapter, which is violent and quite disturbing in parts; if you're the sensitive type, give it a miss.

Three hours later, the ER had returned to normal – as normal as things could be under the circumstances. A steady flow of patients came in and out of the department, some leaving on the road to recovery, others spending their dying moments looking into the eyes of the doctors and nurses who worked there. Life and death had become so routine, so familiar in the ER that the staff had almost become desensitized to it – almost, but not quite. Suddenly, in light of recent events, death became all too poignant. For Mark Greene, who had demanded that he be allowed to return to work, death was unbearable, and as such he was only allowed to work on minor cases.

'Collins' Mark shouted in the direction of chairs as he glanced over a chart. When there was no response, he looked up.

'Collins….Mr Collins' he yelled again.

'That's me' replied a man as he stood up.

'I'm Dr Greene….this way' Mark said sheepishly as he headed for curtain two. Everything seemed distant and blurry, as if he wasn't really in the ER at all. He was just going through the motions, the routines of treating patients. He was a healthcare practitioner, and yet he didn't really _care_, not any more. He chuckled to himself as this thought washed through his brain: it was the only thing he could do to stop himself from breaking down completely.

'Have a seat, Mr Collins' said Mark, barely aware of what he was doing. He felt so tired, and yet he could not sleep.

As he looked at the man sat before him – mid-thirties, white, kind of scruffy but in a day-off-work kind of way rather than genuinely unkempt – Mark suddenly wished it was him sitting on the bed waiting to have a hand lac sown up, and that someone – anyone – else was sat on the stool, feeling this agony, this sense of unending limbo, the restlessness, the exhaustion, the fear. As he wordlessly began to stitch, he imagined himself in a parallel universe, one in which he had never gone to Union Station on that fateful day, never declared his love, never persuaded Susan to get off that train. He imagined what would've happened: she would be living in Phoenix, probably married to someone else. He would've been crushed, of course, but he would've gotten over it in time. None of this would've ever happened, he thought…

'None of what?' said the patient, jolting him from his daydream.

'Huh?'

'You said 'none of this would've ever happened', none of what?' said the patient again, looking slightly confused but oddly unsurprised that Mark was talking to himself.

'Oh, nothing' said Mark, slightly embarrassed. As he looked at the patient he couldn't help but notice how familiar he looked. But then, everyone seemed to look familiar when you treated hundreds of patients week in, week out.

'Is something wrong?' said the patient, puzzled as to why Mark had stopped sewing and was now staring at him.

'Er….no' said Mark, suddenly conscious of how oddly he had been acting as he recommenced stitching 'Have I treated you before, Mr Collins?' Mark regretted asking this question almost as soon as he had begun asking it – he knew that the patient would start driveling on about a broken toe he had treated in 1992 or something.

'I don't…..no, I don't think so' he replied, and Mark thought he detected a slight nervousness in the response. Maybe he was an illegal, or running an insurance racket or something – whatever, Mark didn't care.

'All done' he said, getting up to leave, 'You can go. Drop by to get those stitches out in a week or so, and make sure you keep your hand clean'.

Mark had said those words literally thousands of times. Sutures, bandages, taping people up – all ways of sticking people back together, he thought. Such simple solutions, so easily administered – why had they managed to find so many cures for physical wounds, when they were the ones that hurt the least?

'Honey, I'm home!' he laughed as he unlocked the door and found her – unsurprisingly – exactly as he had left her. She turned her head and watched him as he approached then sat on the bed next to her.

'How was your day?' he said in a mocking tone. She didn't respond. Rather, she turned her head away from him.

'Don't feel like sharing? That's OK. Shall I tell you where I've been?' he said gleefully. Susan didn't move. He carried on.

'OK, well, I think it's time for another of our little letters. Just to let the good doctor know that we're thinking of him. What d'ya say?'

Susan turned her head to look at him with all the contempt she could muster.

'We are quiet today, Dr Lewis. You know, it's no fun having you around when you're like this.'

'So let me go' she spat.

'Sorry, Dr Lewis – no can do. Now, about that letter, I'll be needing something to write with….' he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a knife.

She willed herself not to show any fear, but her trembling body betrayed her. She tried to control herself, but her breathing became shallower as he leaned towards her.

'We've done this arm' he said, running the blunt side of the blade down the length of her right side. 'Let's try the other one' he said with glee as he climbed on top of her to reach the other arm. She struggled with every ounce of energy she could muster as he began to untie the rope holding her left arm in place at the head of the bed, and he quickly lost his patience, holding the blade at her exposed neck.

'We can go for the jugular, if you'd prefer' he sneered, pressing the blade tightly against her throat and leaning in, his face only inches from hers. 'That's better' he said as she lay perfectly still. 'Any more of that and…'

'And what?' she said. 'Are you going to kill me? Because if you are, I'd rather you did it now and got it over with' to emphasize her point, she spat in his face.

It took him a few moments to react. He punched her hard in the face, and she could feel herself slipping in and out of consciousness as he sliced her left arm open.

'Kill me you bastard' she slurred, eyes closed as she felt the blood begin to trickle down her arm.

'Death would be too good for you' he breathed into her ear as she vainly attempted to struggle once more. 'He thinks you're dead. They all do. That's why we need to write another letter. One that's no so….ambiguous. He needs to know that you're suffering. I want him to know that'.

'How do you know that' she whispered as loudly as she could manage' 'How do you know what he's thinking?' she flinched as he slowly stroked her face.

'I know' he began, moving his hand down her neck, 'Because that's where I've been today. A patient at County General ER, treated by none other than Dr Mark Greene'.

Tears formed in her eyes and she screwed up her face in an expression of pure agony. 'No. No!' she said, with as much force as she could muster.

'It's true' he said, as he began to move his hand down further still, carefully caressing her body. 'Shhhh, don't cry' he said, 'it'll ruin the occasion'.

'What occasion?' she replied, desperately fighting a losing battle to stay conscious.

'I want him to never want to touch you again. To see you for the dirty whore that you really are. Oh, he can have you back. But by the time you see him again, he won't want you.' As he began to unbuckle his belt, she finally slipped into oblivion.


	27. Chapter 27

'Shit!' Doug couldn't believe his luck as the car rolled to a halt in the middle of the road. He reached into the glove compartment and grabbed his cell phone. Opening it, he found a blank screen – the battery had died.

'Piece of junk!' he said as he threw it onto the back seat. He had forgotten to charge the battery at the last motel.

'This is crazy' he thought to himself as he got out of the car. What was he doing? He had been half way to Seattle when he had gotten the message left on his voicemail:

'Hi Doug, it's John – John Carter. I don't know where you are, but I know why you left. Carol told me everything. Look, you probably think that this is none of my business, but you have to come back. Carol, well…she's in a really bad way, Doug. I'm worried about her, she might do something stupid. And anyway, it's not just her. You probably don't think so, but Mark really needs you right now. I guess you'll have heard the news about Susan. He's really not coping very well at all. I guess none of us are, to be honest. So anyway, we need you right now, Doug – Carol, Mark, the whole staff. Just come back to Chicago, get here as fast as you can, because….'

The message was typical Carter – long, rambling and not really getting to the point – but from the tone of his voice Doug could tell that something was very, very wrong. At first he guessed that Susan had left Mark, which he felt terrible about, but he had already made his decision to leave. But as he drove, the message replayed again and again in his mind. It didn't make sense: why was Carter involved? Why was he so adamant that Doug should come back? It was only two hours later, at a roadside diner, that he had listened to the message again and made the decision to turn around and head right back to Chicago. A seemingly endless list of awful possibilities played through his mind as he drove: had Carol miscarried? Was Susan ill? Jake? But then why would the whole ER not be coping? None of this made sense.

And now this. He was only 50, maybe 60 miles outside Chicago, the middle of nowhere, yet his car had given up on him. As he looked under the hood, he was baffled by the array of pipes and tubes beneath: he knew nothing about cars. Give him a human body, and he could fix it, but the world of automotive engineering was a complete mystery.

He replaced the hood and looked around him. No cars, no buildings, nothing. There was nothing he could do in the fading autumn light but start to walk. Maybe he'd get lucky, find a truck stop or a motel. Maybe he could flag down a passing car. Surely his run of bad luck couldn't go on?

Just as the sun hit the horizon, he saw it: a house. A mile, maybe two further down the road. He guessed he'd already been walking for an hour, and not a single car had passed him. With no sidewalk, he decided to start jogging: it would be dangerous to walk in the middle of the highway in the dark, if any vehicles did actually pass. Besides, there was a chill in the air and the run would keep him warm, if nothing else.

'Why the hell would anyone want to live out here?' he thought to himself as he broke into a jog. All manner of catastrophes passed through his mind as the house got closer and closer: what if there was no-one home? What if no-one lived there at all? What if they didn't have a phone? What if they simply didn't want to help him? What if they were deranged psychopaths that murdered bypassers? He chuckled at his own hyperactive imagination: he was as bad as some of the kids he treated for getting carried away with himself.

The closer he got, the faster he found himself running. As he got nearer, he was relieved to see two cars in the driveway: at least they could drop him at the nearest payphone, he thought. And both cars were fairly new, he noticed. In fact, one was exactly like Susan's. He remembered going with her and Mark to pick it out: 'I need as many menfolk to come with me as possible,' she had joked, 'These car dealerships see a skirt and dollar signs flash in their eyes.' This had led to a heated debate between the three of them about women exploiting men just as much as men exploited women, but it was all in jest; he had been happy to help her out.

'My luck's finally changing' thought Doug as he slowed to walk up the driveway - he noticed a basketball hoop over the garage door: maybe he could shot a few hoops with the occupants whilst he waited for the rescue truck to tow him back to civilization. He took a few minutes to get his breath back after the jog before heading up the steps to the porch and ringing the bell.

As he waited, he noticed that the porch looked like it had until very recently been well looked-after. An array of plants were lined up outside the door, but they were all dead. Similarly, there were fresh cracks in the paint on the door and the glass looked a little bit dirty – not too unkempt, but like any everyday maintenance had been abandoned over the summer. Perhaps they'd just returned from a long vacation, he thought as he heard footsteps in the hallway.

The door opened just a few inches, and a man's voice came from the other side.

'Hello?'

'Hi,' Doug began, 'I'm really sorry to bother you, but my car broke down a few miles away and my cell phone has given up on me, I was just wondering if I could use your phone to call a mechanic?' There was a long pause as Doug waited for a response from the man.

'Er, sure, yes, come in' said the man as he slammed the door shut. Doug was a little taken aback, but as he heard the sound of metal scrapping on the other side of the door he realized that the occupant was removing the security chain.

'Can't be too careful' said Doug to the man as the door fell open and he stepped inside the house.

'No. You don't know who's around these days' said the man, shutting the door behind them. 'Have a seat' he said, gesturing to the sofa in the lounge.

Even though he knew he was being silly earlier, Doug was relieved by the normality of the house, and the fact that the man was willing to help him.

'Here's the phone' said his host, handing him a cordless handset.

'I really can't thank you enough, Mr….' Doug said, dialing the familiar number of the roadside recovery company.

'Oh, call me Nathan. Nathan Collins' replied the man, smiling.


	28. Chapter 28

'Carol, what are you doing here?' Carter was puzzled to see her. He knew that she was due back at work, but in light of recent events he had assumed she'd take some more time off.

'Working, Carter – this baby isn't going to pay for itself, is it?' she snapped. On top of everything, she was now behind on the mortgage payments and her only hope of keeping the house was to get back to work and put in some extra shifts.

'You're starting back on the graveyard shift?' he said incredulously.

'Yup, it pays the most' she replied, irritated by the little rich boy's interrogation.

'Won't Doug be….helping out?' he asked, regretting the question a split second after asking it.

'I don't know, Carter. Who knows when I'll even hear from him again? All I know at the moment is that the only person I can rely on is myself, and it's up to me to provide for this baby, so here I am' Carol surprised herself with her frankness.

'Y'know, if you ever need anything, I'm here for you' said Carter, trying to offer his support.

'I don't want your money, Carter' she replied, offended.

'No, no, I didn't mean…what I meant was, if you need a friend, anytime, I'm here'.

She smiled in appreciation of the sentiment.

'But I wouldn't be so sure that Doug won't be around,' he added, 'you never know when he might turn up again.' With that, he left her to clock in as he headed to Doc's to grab some take-out for dinner; he was half way through a double shift, and he had a feeling it would be a long night.

The recovery company said it could take up to two hours to get someone out to tow Doug's car to a garage. It was the first frost of the fall, apparently, and that had caught a lot of people off guard. 'Typical,' thought Doug as he handed the phone back to his host.

'Sounds like it's gonna be a while,' he said to Nathan Collins, the home owner. 'I can wait outside if you'd like?' Doug offered, not wishing to intrude on this guy's evening, but secretly hoping he wouldn't have to wait in the cold.

'I wouldn't hear of it,' he said in a friendly tone, 'Can I get you something to drink?'

'Sure, a soda would be great, thanks,' replied Doug. At least he'd be able to wait comfortably, he thought.

As Nathan disappeared into the kitchen, Doug looked around the room. It reminded him of the old adage: a place for everything, and everything in its place. There wasn't a single thing at an odd angle, nothing casually thrown down. And yet, everything seemed to be covered in a fine layer of dust. Maybe this was the 'good' room, he thought; maybe the family did all their day-to-day living out in the kitchen, and this room was saved for best. A selection of photographs adorned the mantle, and Doug got up to take a closer look. There were five photographs: a wedding snap, of Nathan and a pretty blonde woman; a baby photo, presumably a boy swaddled in blue; two shots of the three of them together, one outside the house in the summer, another of them with a snowman, and finally a school photo of the blonde-haired, green-eyed boy, aged maybe six or seven.

'Cute family,' said Doug as Nathan returned and handed him his drink. Suddenly, Nathan's entire face seemed to change. Doug felt awkward, like he had said the wrong thing. A few moments lapsed, before Doug felt he had to break the silence.

'I'm sorry, if you don't want to talk about them…'

'No, it's OK. They're both in the Lord's hands now.' Nathan stared out of the window, into the darkness as he spoke.

'I'm sorry,' Doug repeated himself, unsure of what to say.

'Don't be. It's not your fault. The person who's responsible is being punished now.' Anger seemed to flash in Nathan's eyes for the briefest of moments, before he continued to talk. 'Sarah, my wife, passed just over a year ago. Cancer. There was nothing they could do, they said. After she died, me and Paul – my son – we had to stick together. Just the two of us. We did everything together. It took us a long time to adjust, but we were getting there, slowly. Last month we went fishing, out on the lake. Everything was fine, then suddenly, he was in the water. I still don't know how it happened – it was all so quick. I got him out, drove him to the hospital, he was still alive – then they, they just let him….well, he died, too.'

'Oh' said Doug, unsure of what _to _say. 'That's the worst thing that can happen to you – losing your child.'

'I didn't lose him,' snapped Nathan, 'I got him out, I took him to the hospital. They were supposed to save him, and they didn't. _He _didn't. The doctor, he just let him die.'

'Well, I doubt that….' Doug began, instantly regretting his words.

'I know what happened. I know what that man did. But he's suffering now.'

Doug nodded in agreement, wary of upsetting his host, who was obviously still grieving for his terrible loss. He couldn't help thinking, however, that a good doctor had probably been suspended and was now under investigation all because of this distraught man's need to find someone to blame. Nathan seemed to take comfort in this fact, although Doug knew that in reality the doctors probably did all they could.

'So you live out here alone?' said Doug, trying to change the subject.

'Yes,' replied Nathan, taking a seat and gesturing to Doug to join him. 'My wife's parents left us this house. It was one of her dying wishes that I raised Paul here, just as she had been raised. When we first got together we both lived in the city, but Sarah longed for the freedom out here. She loved the isolation – loved the fact that you could do anything, and nobody was around to complain.'

'Sounds perfect,' said Doug, even though it sounded like his worst nightmare, 'Maybe I should move out here.'

'Well it's not for everyone; it takes some getting used to at first. But I've grown to love it. The peace, the solitude – just me and my memories.'

'Could I use the bathroom?' asked Doug – the soda seemed have gone straight through him.

Nathan paused for a few moments to consider the request, but Doug thought nothing of it – the guy clearly wasn't used to having visitors.

'Of course,' he finally agreed, 'Top of the stairs, first door on the left.'

'Thank you' Doug replied, heading back out into the hallway. As he passed, he noticed a bright green scarf hanging on the coat stand. 'Just like the one Susan always wears' he thought to himself. That was the second thing he had noticed since arriving that reminded him of Susan – she was obviously on his mind. On impulse, he reached out to brush his fingers against it as he passed. As he ran his fingers along the smooth wool, he stopped dead in his tracks: a hot chocolate stain. His mind flashed back to one lunch break at Doc's, a heavily pregnant Susan wearing the scarf and satisfying her marshmallow craving with a hot chocolate, him clumsily knocking over the drink….No, it couldn't be hers. He was tired, his mind was all over the place will worry and exhaustion.

He carried on up the stairs…


	29. Chapter 29

'Clear!' Everyone jumped back as Mark yelled furiously, before holding the paddles to the man's chest.

'Mark, I don't think…' began Carter, but he could tell Mark wasn't listening.

'Clear!' he yelled again.

'I'm getting Weaver' said Carol, snapping her gloves off and tossing them into the bin as she headed out the trauma room doors.

'It's been 40 minutes, Mark.' Carter had a pleading tone in his voice – watching Mark expending so much desperate energy on a lost cause was making him anxious, and besides, he wasn't even supposed to be in trauma.

'What's going on?' asked Kerry as she stopped dead in her tracks. The assembled staff had all long since stopped working on the patient, and Mark had given up ordering them to go on. Yet he continued to use the paddles, refusing to give up on the patient.

'Mark,' said Kerry softly, placing a hand on his arm, 'it's over.'

He stopped and turned to look at her. Beads of sweat hung on his forehead, his expression a mix of determination and fear. He looked back at the body on the table, then slowly around the room, at the looks of sympathy from his colleagues, before carefully placing the paddles back on the charger.

'Time of death….8.29' he said softly, his voice strained with emotion, before slowly leaving the room. Without a word, the nurses began to clean up the body, whilst Carol, Kerry and Carter followed Mark.

'Mark, your shift ended at seven, go home,' said Kerry as they headed into the lounge.

'Home?' he began, 'Home to what? Everything there reminds me of her. When they find her, the first place they're going to bring her is here. And I'm going to be here for her. I'm going to take care of her.'

'She wouldn't have wanted you to do this, Mark. You're running yourself into the ground. And what about Jake? When was the last time you spent any time with him?'

Carter poured each of them a coffee as Carol, Kerry and Mark took a seat at the table.

'Wouldn't have?' said Mark, annoyed.

'Excuse me?' replied Kerry.

'You said she 'wouldn't have wanted me to do this'. She's not dead, Kerry. I know she's not dead.'

'We know that,' Carol interrupted, 'But like you said, the first place she's coming is here. And she's going to want to see her husband and her son, happy and healthy.'

'I'm not going anywhere.' Mark replied stubbornly.

'You're right,' said Kerry, 'You can stay in the hospital, but you're not going out there to treat patients, Mark.'

'I'm still chief of this department, Kerry, and I'll do what I like.'

'You will not compromise patient care. You're in no fit state to be working. I only let you treat minors because I thought it'd take your mind off things, but then I find you in a trauma room….'

'There was no-one else around to take it' he interrupted.

'Then you should've paged me…'

'There was no time!'

'You should've let Carter take over when he arrived.'

'He arrived too late.'

'So then why were you still working on him when I got there?'

'Because I thought he had a chance.'

'And you were wrong. Your medical judgment is impaired and I'm afraid I can't let you work, Mark.'

'What? I'm the Chief, Kerry…'

'Not any more. As of this afternoon I've been made acting Chief. I'm sorry Mark, but everyone agrees that you can't be an effective Chief in the current circumstances.'

Mark took a few seconds to take this news in.

'I see,' he said, 'You just couldn't wait to take over, could you Kerry?'

'It's not like that and you know it' she said, exasperated.

'A-hem,' said Detective Warner, who was standing in the doorway. 'Dr Greene, there's been a development.'

'You've found her?' Mark said hopefully.

'No, but there's been a report of your friend's car – Dr Doug Ross – found abandoned about fifty miles out of the city. We're sending some units out now to check it out.'

'Doug's car? Where is he? What does he have to do with Susan?' Carol bombarded the Detective with questions.

'He's our top suspect for the kidnapping,' Warner replied, 'We haven't found him yet though – just the car.'

'That's crazy,' said Carol, 'Doug wouldn't do something like that'.

'I'm afraid all our leads suggest he would, Miss Hathaway,' replied Warner, 'We'll have a better idea when we pick up the car – forensic evidence, that sort of thing.'

'I don't believe this,' said Mark, 'You should be concentrating on finding my wife, and here you are, towing Doug's car for him? As if he hasn't caused enough damage. Doug would love this – center of attention once again.'

'I think we all just need to calm down here. We're doing everything we can' said the Detective.

'I don't have time for this rubbish,' said Mark, 'I have patients to see.'

Kerry followed Mark as he stormed back out into the ER, whilst Carol tried to comprehend what was happening. Carter, meanwhile, poured himself another cup of coffee – just as he had suspected, it was going to be a long night.


	30. Chapter 30

'Ow!' Susan winced as she slowly opened her eyes. Her head felt like, well, like she'd been punched in the face by a maniac, she thought to herself. She tried to shift herself so that she could assess the damage to her body – clinical as always – but the second she moved she began to ache.

She would simply not think about what had happened to her. What he had done. She was a doctor, she had been trained to emotionally detach herself from an awful situation, and if she ever needed that training it was now. Her only focus was her family, her only goal getting back to them alive.

Water. She needed water. She had previously refused all but a tiny amount of the food and drink he had offered her, but her hopes of being rescued any time soon were fading rapidly, and she needed to look after herself. How could she get his attention? She had never felt the need to before now. She had no idea whereabouts in the house he stayed, doing whatever it was that he did. She didn't even know if he was in the house.

'Help,' she tried to shout, but her voice was horse. 'Help' she tried again, louder this time.

She listened carefully in the darkness. Nothing. He obviously wasn't within hearing distance, she thought. This was pointless. She would just have to wait until he felt like paying her a visit again. She hated this powerlessness. The total dependence on one person who had complete control.

'Help!' she shouted this time, spurred on by her anger.

There was nothing at first. She sighed heavily, assuming that he was just ignoring her, then suddenly she heard footsteps: he was coming up the stairs.

'About damn time!' she yelled as the footsteps got nearer, no longer caring if she made him angry or not.

Just as she expected him to burst through the door, the footsteps stopped. She listened carefully, but could hear nothing beyond the sound of her own breathing. Had she imagined the sound of footsteps? Was she delirious, on top of everything else? No, she concluded, he was just playing with her.

'I need some water. A glass of water. Unless you want to go down for murder?' she yelled, certain he was on the other side of the door.

Finally, she heard the key turn slowly in the door. Carefully, she turned her head towards the door, to see the outline of his figure in the doorway.

'Please, I just need some water,' she croaked, her voice giving in. He turned on the light.

'Susan?' Doug took a few seconds to take it all in as he tried to comprehend what was going on.

'Doug?' she said, shocked. 'Oh my god, Doug is that you? How did you find me? Have they got the bastard…'

'Shhh!' he said, hurrying over to the bed and beginning to untie the ropes. 'He's downstairs, the police aren't here. No-one knows I'm here. My car broke down and my cellphone died, so I came here to use the phone. We're in the middle of nowhere,' as he spoke he noticed blood on his hands from her wrists, 'What did this bastard do to you?'

'He's crazy, Doug. He's got some personal vendetta against Mark.'

'Has he got a gun?' Doug asked, as he began to wonder how they were going to get out of there.

'I don't think so…no, I've never seen him with a gun. A knife….he always uses a knife….' Tears formed in her eyes as she remembered.

'Sshh, it's ok. Everything's going to be ok' said Doug as he undid the final knot and put his arm round her to help her up.

'Can you walk?' he asked, noticing that she was shaking as she tried to sit up.

'I don't know' she replied, desperately trying to move her legs off the bed.

'It's ok, I'll carry you' he said as he began to lift her.

'Doug, wait. We need to think about this. How are we going to escape? He'll already be getting suspicious, and I'm too weak to help you overpower him.' Doug saw the fear and panic in her eyes and knew instantly that she had been through a terrible ordeal – she was terrified of this man, and looking at her injuries, he wasn't going to just let them walk out of there without one hell of a fight.

'You're right,' he said, gently placing her back on the bed, 'We're gonna have to be smarter than him. Stay here and I'll figure something out.'

'No!' she said, 'Please don't leave me.'

'I'll be back, Susan. I promise' he said as he left the room and quickly flushed the toilet and washed his hands before heading back down the stairs.

It was all Doug could do to stop himself from punching the guy the moment he laid eyes on him. But he knew that if they were both going to get out of there, he'd have to be much more subtle than that.

'Everything ok?' said Nathan as Doug returned to his seat.

'Fine' Doug replied, taking a sip of his soda.

'So what line of business are you in, Doug?'

'I'm an accountant,' he lied, since it was clear that Nathan didn't take too kindly to doctors – especially ones who were friends with Mark Greene.

'Oh. Do you enjoy your work?' said Nathan.

'Er…sometimes. You know how it is, working in an office. The pay is good.'

'Which firm do you work for?'

'Huh?' Doug knew he was about to be caught out.

'Which accountancy firm do you work for? My wife was an accountant.'

'I'm kind of in between firms at the moment. I'm just taking some time out to, y'know, enjoy life, see a bit of the country.' Doug was finding it difficult to simultaneously keep up with his lies and figure out a way of rescuing Susan.

'I see' said Nathan, incredulously.

'What is it that you do?' Doug asked, desperately trying to change the focus of the conversation away from himself.

'I was a stay-at-home dad when Sarah was alive. As soon as I settled down I just wanted to focus all my energy on my family – they were the most important thing in the world to me.'

'Oh' said Doug, unsure of what to say. He was acutely aware that this man was unstable and could lose it at any time.

'Although before we married, I was a cop' Nathan added.

'A cop? Really? That must've been interesting.' Doug's heart was beating so fast that he thought he was going to have an MI.

'Interesting? I suppose you could say that. You see the worst of people, day in, day out – liars, cheaters, rapists, murderers – it really opens your eyes to what depths people are capable of sinking to. And not just the usual low-lifes: you soon learn that everyone is a suspect, old, young, rich, poor – they're all the same, deep down. No consideration of anyone but themselves.'

'That's quite a bleak way of looking at things' said Doug. He also saw these things day in, day out, but he also saw the best of people – strangers helping each other, people risking their lives to save others, people being cured.

'What can I say? The reality is bleak. All you can do is punish people for their wrongdoings so that they won't, or can't, do it again.' A slight smile formed on Nathan's lips as he said this, and Doug could do nothing but smile in return.

Inside, however, he was getting more and more panicky – how the hell was he going to get out of this?


	31. Chapter 31

'These recovery guys sure are taking their time' said Doug, once again trying to lighten the tone of his conversation with Nathan Collins.

'That's the problem with everything these days. Everything's so half-assed and shoddy, people just cannot be bothered to do their jobs properly any more. I tell you, you'd be so much better off getting out of the city, it's full of lazy wise-crackers.'

'Maybe you're right. How far's the nearest town? Maybe I could get a place out here'

'About ten miles. Nearest neighbor's about five. Old couple, keep themselves to themselves. Husband's one of those gun nuts, got a whole stack of 'em on the walls.'

'So it's nice and peaceful out here huh? You don't have a gun yourself?'

'No, don't believe in them. That's another reason I left the force – it made feel really uneasy carrying one of those things. There's so many weirdos out there, it makes me sick to think how easy any old crank can get hold of a gun in this country. They're all over the streets.'

Doug stifled a laugh at this bizarre comment – this guy really was nuts.

'Excuse me, I won't be a minute' said Nathan as he got up and headed towards the hallway. Doug leaped from his seat and blocked his path. Nathan eyed him suspiciously.

'Er…the recovery guy's gonna be here any minute, can you just hold on until he gets here? I wouldn't want to have to leave without thanking you.' Doug knew that this made no sense whatsoever. He was clutching at straws.

'I just have to go upstairs for a moment. If they get here just shout and I'll come back.'

'Ok' he replied, but as Nathan tried to pass him Doug punched him in the face, sending him reeling backwards.

Doug took the stairs two at a time to try and get to Susan, convinced that Nathan would be right behind him. As he reached her, however, he noticed that he hadn't been followed.

'Quick, Susan, we have to get out of here now!' he said, trying to lift her up. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and it was not any easy job, but he somehow managed to get her over his shoulder. As he turned to leave, however, the door to the room slammed shut and before he could reach the handle he heard the key turn in the lock.

'Shit!' he said, gently putting Susan back down on the bed. Doug immediately began kicking at the door, but it was no good.

'Let us out you crazy son of a bitch!' he screamed, instantly aware that it was entirely the wrong thing to say. He went to one of the windows, and found it nailed shut. The other window, however, was merely jammed, and with some brute force Doug knew he'd be able to get it open. He started to pull it up with all the strength he could muster, but to no avail.

As he carried on, he found himself getting weaker and weaker, until eventually he stopped to regain his strength, resting his head on the cold glass. As he looked out into the darkness, he was astounded to see flashing blue lights in the distance – were the police on their way?

If they were he would need to attract their attention; they might not be heading for the house, and if they were just passing they would be doing so at speed. He quickly looked around the room for something to use to smash the window pane.

Downstairs, Nathan panicked. Even though he knew he was right to take Susan – Dr Greene had to be punished – he knew the police wouldn't see it that way. He'd end up in prison for a long time if they caught him, that was certain. As he heard the sirens in the distance, he knew his only chance would be to go on the run.

But what about the two witnesses upstairs? He could already hear the guy trying to open the windows, then trying to break the door down – it would only be a matter of time. And then they'd tell the police everything. It was no use. He had to get rid of them….but there was no time.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He could destroy them and all the evidence in the house in one go. He quickly ran out to the garage and grabbed the can of spare gas. Tears streamed down his face as he sloshed the gasoline around the downstairs rooms. That house – Sarah had loved that house.

No, he had to do this. It was the only way. He took one last look around as the sirens got gradually louder. He grabbed the five pictures from the mantle before throwing a match onto the sofa; there was a loud woosh as the whole thing was engulfed in flames in an instant.

He dashed out of the house and threw the photographs onto the passenger seat of the car, before quickly getting in and starting the ignition. The tyres screeched as he hurriedly reversed onto the road. As he looked back, he saw the shadows of the flames dancing on the front porch. So many memories.

Gone.


	32. Chapter 32

Gone.

She was gone. It was that day – that day at Union Station – and he had ran faster than he had ever ran in his life. He knew that she was here somewhere – at the station – but he couldn't find her. As he pushed his way through the crowds, he kept getting glimpses of her in the distance.

'Susan!' he cried, breathless, but it was useless – she didn't hear him.

Suddenly, he found himself on a platform, struggling against the crowd of commuters, frantically searching for her.

Then there she was – on the opposite platform.

'Susan!' he yelled again, but it was futile; there was no way she would hear him over the hustle and bustle of the packed station.

All he could do was run. And yet, somehow his legs were stuck. The more he struggled to move, the less he was able to feel the muscles in his legs. Worse still, the tide of people streaming onto the platform was carrying him further and further away from her. He was helpless as he watched her in the distant, her tiny form getting onto the train and disappearing from his life forever.

'Susan!' he cried, more in anguish than with any hope she would hear him.

'Susan!'

'Mark, wake up!'

He opened his eyes to find Carol gently shaking him.

'Mark, you need to get some proper rest. You can't keep sleeping in the lounge like this. It's crazy. Go home. Go to my place. Go anywhere – just get out of the hospital for a while.'

'The dreams' he mumbled, not looking at her.

'What?' she said.

'The dreams – I keep having these dreams. I'm always trying to reach her, but I never can. I always lose her, one way or another.'

'It's natural to have these sorts of dreams at a time like this' she reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and sitting next to him on the couch.

'No, it's more than that. I've been having them for months. They're all a little bit different: sometimes I can see her but I can't reach her, sometimes I'm just looking for her but I know she's already gone. And in the dreams, I know it's forever. She's gone forever, and I'll never see her again. I just know. And it's not just a bad feeling, it's not an anxiety or fear in the pit of your stomach. It's the _worst_ feeling. The worst feeling I've ever known. It's not just agonizing, it's totally crippling. It's not just debilitating, it's like you can't function and you don't even want to try, you just want to stop breathing, you want your organs to shut down and your brain not to think and your heart not to feel because even existing is unbearable, and you can't imagine a time when you won't feel like this again, and even if you did you'd be so haunted by the memory of this moment that every moment of your life would be lived in the shadow of it, in the terrible fear that it might come back again….' Mark turned to look at her as he trailed off, suddenly aware of how crazy all this probably sounded.

'Wow' she said after a moment, wary not to be dismissive – he was obviously starting to crack under the emotional strain. And yet, she had been there. Only a few days ago, she had known that agony, felt as if she was only breathing in spite of herself.

'It's like I always knew, deep down, that I would lose her…' He was overcome with emotion; he wasn't crying – he was sobbing.

He hugged her, and she hugged him back. As she did so, tears slowly began to roll down her cheeks. Not tears of sympathy for Mark. Not even tears of anguish at the fact that Susan could well be dead. No. Her tears were those of relief; she had finally found someone who had experienced the same darkness as she had. And that, perversely, was incredibly comforting.

Ah, Phoenix. She felt the heat of the burning sun on her skin as she watched Jake and Susie playing in the pool. She could smell smoke – someone must've been having a barbeque.

She couldn't remember ever feeling such contentment as she lay back on the lounger and closed her eyes. She didn't know where Mark was – or Chloe, for that matter – but she knew that wherever they were, they'd be happy for her. This was it – this was the life she had dreamed of.

Not at first, of course. No, as a child she had always imagined a big white wedding, a beautiful house, a proper family. Who was she kidding – she'd still been imagining it, albeit with a more realistic slant, right up until Chloe had had Susie. It had never materialized, however – a string of dysfunctional boyfriends and a ridiculously demanding career had seen to that.

Then came Susie. And everything changed. She hadn't thought once of a big white wedding since that day. All her daydreams and aspirations revolved around that little girl. But she was taken from her. And then, of course, it came – the wedding, the house, the child. And yet she still wanted Susie.

Now here she was, with Susie and Jake; all her dreams realized.

Getting uncomfortably hot in the heat of the midday sun, she opened her eyes.

'Susan! Susan, come on!' Doug struggled to scream as smoke billowed into the room under the door. It was getting impossible to see, but he could just make out the look of peace on Susan's face – it was almost a shame to wake her.

Almost – apart from the fact that it would save her life. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Instantly, the look of tranquility vanished, replaced by confusion and anxiety.

'We have to get out of here!' he said, trying to help her up. 'The house is on fire!'

Disorientated, she tried to get up. It was no use – she was too weak to stand on her own. Doug helped her sit back down as they both struggled to breathe. Feeling his way back to the door, Doug managed to touch the handle with the back of his hand. It was getting hot; the fire was getting closer to the room. Their only chance now was to smash that door down, he thought. Summoning all of his dwindling energy, he kicked at the door. And again. And again.

His heart leapt when it finally smashed, and he immediately went to help Susan up. Pure adrenaline was keeping his body working – each breath was extremely labored and he tried to keep them both as near to the floor as possible to avoid the choking black smoke. He grabbed a sheet from the bed and ripped off two pieces, holding one to his own mouth and one to hers. Stumbling, choking, eyes stinging, throats burning, they somehow made it half way down the stair case. As they got nearer the foot of the stairs, the heat was becoming unbearably intense. A wall of flame engulfed the bottom of the stair case, but Doug could see that beyond it the path to the front door was clear.

'We're going to have to jump' he said, coughing and spluttering as he turned to Susan. Fear gripped him as he found her sat on the step, eyes closed and slumped against the wall.

'Don't you give up on me now!' he said, shaking her, desperately trying to wake her.

'Shit' he said to himself as he realized she was unconscious. He looked back at the flames then turned back to her. He quickly removed his jacket and wrapped it around her; she was wearing a torn blouse and skirt that would offer no protection from the encroaching flames. Finally, he scooped her up in his arms and turned to face his fate. This was it: both their lives depended on this moment. With every passing second, the distance he needed to jump to safety was increasing.

'Here goes nothing…' he thought, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and throwing himself forward with every ounce of strength that remained.

He opened his eyes. They had made it! Relief surged through him as he somehow found his way to the door. He took a deep breath of fresh air as he hurried away from the house, still watching Susan to make sure she was breathing.

'Freeze!' Doug looked up to see a dozen uniformed police officers surrounding the house, all pointing their guns at him. Exhausted, confused and desperate to help Susan, he carried on walking, and damned the consequences.


	33. Chapter 33

'I SAID FREEZE!'

Doug dropped to his knees, not because he had been ordered to stop, but because he simply couldn't go on any more. Gently laying Susan on the grass, he felt for a pulse and found a weak one, before starting CPR – she had stopped breathing.

'Call an ambulance!' Doug tried to shout, but his voice was hoarse. 'Stop pointing that gun at me and get over here and help' he yelled weakly as he began compressions on Susan's chest. Tears began to stream down his blackened face as worked on her lifeless, traumatized body.

Four of the cops headed over to him, still pointing their weapons and unsure what to do.

'Stop, or I'll shoot' said a young officer, forcefully but with obvious uncertainty.

'I'm a doctor. She needs urgent medical attention. Get an air ambulance out here now, and radio ahead to County Hospital – tell them we're coming in.'

The four policemen looked at each other, still pointing their guns at Doug.

'Do what he just said' Detective Hodder ordered the men with authority. One of the older cops looked at him quizzically.

'But I thought Warner said he's our guy?'

'I know what Warner said, but we need to concentrate on making sure this doesn't become a murder inquiry. Besides, he's not going anywhere' he added, nodding to Doug who was still frantically working on Susan. 'We can arrest him later.'

Doug didn't hear a word: all he could focus on right now was saving her life.

'How long have they been in there?' Lydia asked as she stood at the desk and nodded in the direction of the lounge.

'Nearly an hour' replied Jerry, raising an eyebrow.

'What are they doing?'

'Comforting each other, I guess' Chuny chipped in.

'Comforting each other, huh?' said Jerry in an incredulous tone.

'Jerry!' both women scolded in unison.

'They're going through a really tough time' said Chuny.

'Yeah, well we're going through a pretty rough time ourselves out here dealing with these patients. We're getting slammed.'

'I'm sure it'll get quiet soon.' said Lydia optimistically. They all sighed, however, as the radio went off – yet another trauma coming in.

'This is County General, go ahead'.

The staff had been anticipating an MVA, maybe a shooting. Heck, even a building collapse, a train wreck, an explosion. Even a passenger jet making an emergency landing on Michigan Avenue would have made less of an impact than the message they were about to receive.

'We just got word from Chicago PD. A house fire out of town. Two victims – Doug Ross and Susan Lewis. They're coming in on the chopper.'

After a brief moment of stunned silence, Lydia pulled herself together.

'What's the ETA?' she asked shakily.

'15 minutes.'

'How bad?' she could barely bring herself to ask.

'Ross has minor burns and smoke inhalation. Lewis is critical. Smoke inhalation from the fire, plus some older injuries - broken bones, lacerations, severe dehydration.'

Lydia slowly put the radio mic down. 'Somebody better tell Mark' she said, gravely.

'There's no need' he said, standing in the doorway to the lounge.

'We need to intubate NOW!'

The air paramedics looked at each other nervously, before handing over the equipment and helping the guy get an airway. They had to get the cops to forcibly restrain him, however, when they insisted on taking over bagging her so they could put her on the chopper.

'No!' he tried to shout, with limited success; he ended up coughing and spluttering.

'She needs a doctor with her.'

'She's in safe hands' a paramedic told him, before the two of them carried her away.

Doug struggled, but he knew there was no way they'd let him go with her instead of a paramedic. Deep down, he knew he was in no fit state to look after her, but he desperately wanted to give it his best shot. At the very least, he just wanted to be with her on the journey: what if she woke up? She'd want to see a familiar face. What if she slipped away? It didn't bear thinking about…

'Susan! Hang in there!' he yelled hoarsely as the officers forced him into the back of the car, before snapping a pair of cuffs on him.

'Hey!' he said, horrified. What the hell was going on?

'Doug Ross, we are arresting you on suspicion of kidnap, assault, attempted murder….'

Doug sat in stunned silence as the officer reeled off a list of charges. He couldn't believe what was happening. Surely this had to be some sort of hideous nightmare? He couldn't take any more. Suddenly, he seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open. As he desperately lost the fight to stay conscious, the last thing he heard was a panicky cop radioing for a second ambulance.


	34. Chapter 34

Sorry it's been so long! I never intended to take a hiatus but so much has been going on. If anyone still cares, here's the update…

Mark had lost count of the number of times he had stood on this roof recently. There was something about it that numbed him: the muffled street noises below, the infinite stars so distant that they probably no longer existed, a kind of vastness that nullified his presence in the universe. To feel insignificant was to feel like nothing, and nothingness was something he would gladly welcome if it replaced his current pain.

Over the past few days he had often looked out at the array of twinkling lights, wondering if Susan was somewhere amongst them, watching over him. Now he knew that one of those lights _was _Susan, in a much more literal sense: her battered body being flown to the hospital, the helicopter camouflaged amongst the twinkles of the night sky.

Then he saw it: it was them. As the minutes passed, the light became a blurry shape, then an outline. Then he could hear it, faint, almost unperceivable, all the while becoming more and more distinguishable from the sounds of the traffic.

It was unbearable. The waiting, the second guessing of his own senses – constantly asking himself if he could really see what he thought he could, hear what he so desperately want it to be.

And then it was. The moment of calm and quiet was lost as Mark's colleagues joined him, at first wordlessly, then in hushed tones checking that they had all the necessary equipment: that it was working properly, checking and re-checking. Everyone there could sense the tension: it was palpable. Nobody wanted to screw this up. Everyone had been here a thousand times before, yet nobody quite knew what to expect – not knowing if they were ready, if they'd ever be ready, to deal with a trauma so close to home.

Nobody said a word to Mark. They wouldn't have known what to say even if they wanted to. Everyone there – Carter, Carol, Weaver, some resident from the burns unit Mark had never seen before – they all knew that there was nothing anyone could say to make this nightmare any better.

And then, he could feel it. The rotor-blade breeze gave Mark goosebumps, sending a chill down his spine. The assembled team put on their goggles, glancing at him apologetically – as if to say 'hey Mark, I'm terribly sorry but I don't want your wife's blood in my eyes.' They were clearly expecting blood. Lots of blood.

And then the time to think was over – suddenly, it was the time to _do. _ Adrenaline kicked in as the chopper bumped down onto the roof, and Mark started running with the gurney before the door was even opened. Instinctively, he put his head down and forwards, as he'd been trained to do, almost charging towards the paramedic as he jumped out. Above the deafening noise of the engine, the rotor blades, and his own heart thumping in his ears, he shouted: 'What d'ya got?'

Bleep.

Everything and everyone around Mark seemed to be moving in slow-motion as he sat by Susan, clasping her hand with both of his and willing her, with ever fibre of his being, to be ok.

Bleep.

'I'm sorry' he whispered, sure that she'd hear him over the din of the trauma room. He hadn't been able to establish an airway, had been forced to step back and let Weaver run the trauma.

Bleep.

He stared at her face. Badly bruised and blackened by smoke, motionless, she was unrecognisable. But he couldn't look away: she would open her eyes soon, he knew it – and he'd be there.

Bleep.

He kept looking, even as Carol leaned over him to carefully cut off her clothes – there was a police officer in the room, saying something about bagging evidence – he didn't move his eyes from hers.

Bleep.

'Mark' he could vaguely here someone saying, 'Mark, put this on!' He didn't respond, he wasn't interested, and barely noticed as Carter held a vest in front of him whilst they shot x-rays.

Bleep.

'Come on' he muttered under his breath. He knew that any second she would come back to him, that she'd greet him with those beautiful, vibrant green eyes any moment. She had to.

Bleep.

'Come on' he said louder, 'Come on Susan, open your eyes.' He was oblivious to his colleagues, barking out orders, tests, levels…all he needed was for her to open her eyes.

Bleep.

And then a surge of joy pulsed through him as her eyelids twitched, her lashes fluttered and slowly, groggily, and she opened her eyes. And Mark's joy was met there with pure agony, and terror.


	35. Chapter 35

'Shh…you're ok' Mark said in a vain attempt to reassure Susan. He grasped her hand tighter and tried to blink back the tears in his eyes as he slowly reached over and swept a piece of hair from her forehead.

'Everything's going to be alright. You're safe now. Everything's fine.' As he looked at her, Mark realised that the physical injuries to her body was the least of her problems – the pain and trauma in her eyes was almost too much to bear. What hurt him most, however, was her complete lack of fight and determination. He had been certain she would be causing hell when she woke up, fighting fit and trying to schedule herself for a shift tomorrow as if nothing had happened. She was usually so determined, so ballsy, invincible. Now she just lay there, looking defeated.

'Hey Susan, you gave us a bit of a scare there' Carter said quietly. He smiled at her but, she noticed, looked pale and tired. She recognised that fixed grin. It was the one he used to reassure patients – all patients, from food poisonings to people on their death beds, Carter gave them all the same expression. Since she had seen it used before in so many hopeless cases, it failed to reassure her as she tried to adjust to seeing the trauma room from a patient's point of view.

Weakly, she raised her free hand as an indication that she wanted to be extubated. Carter gently raised the top of the bed so she was sitting up and then began his usual extubation spiel:

'Now, I'm going to count to three and then pull the tube out. When I get to three I need you to blow real hard for me. Ok?' Susan looked at him disbelievingly, certain that she was the one who had actually taught him to extubate in the first place.

'Er…sorry. Just checking.' He said, embarrassed, before beginning his count. She coughed and spluttered as Mark handed her some ice chips and she took them gratefully. She had been medicated so felt no pain, but she knew how badly damaged her throat was and didn't try to speak. The fact that she didn't _want_ to speak, didn't know what to day, was just a fortunate coincidence. In fact, no one was speaking. Susan realised that the staff who had packed the trauma room moments ago had been quietly ushered out.

'The police need to speak to you' said Mark. 'I'll stay with you.' She shook her head, insisting that he wasn't there during the interview. She knew this would hurt him, but she only wanted to protect him: the police would want to establish the facts, and they both knew from experience that they could be pretty blunt when trying to establish exactly what had happened. Normally, Mark would be insistent but in his current state of crippling exhaustion he gave in to her request. 'Jake' she mouthed, pleading for Mark to go and be with their son. Mark misread her, 'I'll bring him in right after you've done with the police.' She shook her head again, even more forcefully than last time. 'Not like this', she croaked this time, tears flowing freely down her face. 'Ok' Mark conceded again.

He slowly got up to leave and kissed her forehead, before heading for the door. She watched him say something to one of the two cops stationed outside the door, before he looked back at her once more before leaving. She thought about what he must've been through over the last few days, not knowing whether he would ever see her again, dead or alive. And then she stopped herself: it was just too raw, too awful to think about. They both had to focus now on the fact that she had been found, alive, if not exactly well. After this interview, she fully intended to wipe this whole thing from her memory. She was good at that: she'd done it before, when Susie left. She had dealt with that hurt and moved on. Now she would repeat the process: simple.

As she waited for the detective, she laid back and looked up at the ceiling. It crossed her mind that she must have stood over hundreds of people lying in this exact position, her only concern being one of two outcomes: the patients either lived or died. Today, she was the patient, and she had lived. One of the lucky ones who gets to walk out of here, go back to their families, their jobs, their lives. So why did she feel so damn unlucky right now?

Her train of thought was broken by Carol's entrance into the room.

'Hey, how are you feeling?' Carol asked, approaching her.

'Honestly? I don't know.' Susan's voice was still a little croaky so Carol handed her some ice chips. 'I guess a little guilty. I'm lucky to be alive. But…' her voice broke down as her eyes filled with tears once more.

'Hey, nobody can tell you how to feel. You have every right to feel terrible. Something awful has happened to you.' Carol wipes the tears from her cheeks gently with her thumb.

'Susan, can I ask you something?' Carol felt terrible asking, but she desperately needed to know. Susan nodded.

'Did Doug do this to you?'

'What? No! Is that what they think? Is that what _you _think? That the father of your child is capable of kidknapping, and beating, and raping…' Susan broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Carol instinctively put her arms around her and held her tightly.

'Shh…I'm sorry, I had no idea. It's going to be alright. Everything's going to be alright. I'll go get a rape kit.' Carol slowly let go of Susan and headed for the door.

'Carol?' Susan called after her as she reached the door. She instinctively spun around.

'He saved me. Doug – he saved my life.'


End file.
